


My Heart's in San Francisco   (Teen Wolf Edition)

by AgentAlexKrycek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Ballet, Gay, M/M, Reunions, San Francisco, The Castro, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 03:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30032121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentAlexKrycek/pseuds/AgentAlexKrycek
Summary: This is my entry into the "Stiles is a BAMF" category. After graduation and that whole Alpha Pack episode, Stiles disappears completely, leaving Beacon Hills forever (?). He does it to protect himself and his Dad, but leaves a broken-hearted Alpha & wolf pack behind. Established relationship. Legal aged characters.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

My Heart's in San Francisco (Teen Wolf Edition) by AgentAlexKrycek

Derek Hale hadn't decided if he liked San Francisco yet. He was only in town for a couple of days to blow off some steam and, in all fairness, hadn't really seen very much of the city by the bay. It was worlds away from the much smaller Beacon Hills, which was exactly what he needed in the mood he was in. The two cities weren't separated by too many miles, but they might has well have been on separate planets. It reminded him of New York City, if NYC had gotten more things right. He'd left his car at the hotel, to avoid parking problems and fees in the congested city. 'It really is beautiful,' he thought as he left the Palace of Fine Arts and told a cab driver to take him to the Fog City Diner. Only after the driver was gone, did he realize there was a long line to get in. His eyes went upwards in frustration, and he found his answer blinking at him. Just across the street was the Hyatt Regency with its revolving restaurant perched on top. 'Might as well trade one tourist trap for another,' he thought, as he walked over to the pyramid-shaped hotel.

The atrium was impressive, but nothing compared to the glass elevator ride to the top from where one could see the spectacular city skyline, Alcatraz, the bay, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the San Francisco Bay Bridge to Angel Island. On the way to the top, Derek couldn't shake a feeling of dread. The cause came to him in a flash and he laughed at himself. These were the same elevators used in the old disaster movie "The Towering Inferno."

Dinner wasn't the greatest, but Derek realized he was really paying for the view. So he ordered a couple more drinks so that he could make the circle a few more times. By the time he got back on the elevator for the trip down, he was feeling pretty good. Who said a werewolf couldn't get drunk? Fight the enhanced immune system, and anything was possible. He needed to be drunk tonight. He needed to dull the pain. The doorman hailed him a cab and opened the door for him. Derek Hale wasn't sure how much to tip for 10-seconds of kindness, so he just handed the man a couple of bucks. He turned to the cabby and said, "Take me somewhere that's popular on a Friday night," and let the man do his job.

The cab cut up Market Street as fast as it could go with stoplights every hundred feet. Just when Derek was starting to get annoyed at the stop-and-go travel, they made a sharp left into the South of Market Area. The area made Hale wonder if his doors were locked and his life insurance premium was paid. There had been lots of homeless people on Market, but this area looked even more abandoned and dangerous. If he didn't have that werewolf card in his back pocket, he might actually be worried. Just when he was sure that he was being taken somewhere to be robbed and left for dead, the cab pulled over. Hale had been expecting a nightclub, but all he could see was a long line of people, a spotlight, and a couple of bouncers.

The bouncers would have been a fine addition to his pack. Muscle like that was always in great demand. Derek paid the driver and gave him a large tip as well. The tip must have made the driver happy, because he honked the horn and gave a 'thumbs up' to the younger of the two bouncers. "Tell him that Tony said you were cool, you won't have to wait in line with the rest of the cattle..."

Derek stepped onto the sidewalk, and suddenly felt very uncomfortable, as a hundred eyes looked him over to see if he was anybody. He caught the indifferent and jaded eye of the bouncer and repeated Tony's message. The message got him past jaded, and the bouncer just mumbled, "You're not really dressed for tonight there cowboy..." The other bouncer, attracted by the chance to show some muscle, came over. "That suit's Armani, Bryce. He's okay."

"Great! Another fucking lawyer," Bryce mumbled under his breath. "They think they own the whole fucking city."

"They do, Bryce," said his partner. To Derek, he asked, "ID Sir?"

Derek flashed his ID, happy to clear up the fact that he wasn't a lawyer. Nothing normally surprised these two security men, and Derek Hale got a slight rise when he saw their reaction to the Beacon Hills Police Department badge in his wallet as he retrieved his driver's license. The badge and gun were presents from Sheriff John Stilinski, who wanted Derek to have other options to wolfing-out. Because, he had explained, sometimes shifting caused more questions and problems than it fixed. It was easy for Derek to look upon the man as a father figure. John had turned out to be a great friend and ally after learning about everything going on in his town. But now seeing him just caused painful memories for Derek. Actually, the last time they had talked, John was the one who had suggested this impromptu trip to San Francisco. Giving the ID back to him, the older and smarter bouncer asked, "Long way from home… You aren't packing tonight are you, Sir?"

Derek always carried a gun now when in an unfamiliar location or territory. He lied and shook his head 'no', and turned to go inside only to be stopped again. Bryce gave him his best patient smile and said, "That will be $40 dollars, sir." Derek was sure that the distance his mouth had dropped open marked him permanently as an out-of-towner.

He paid and went inside. It took a couple of moments for his eyes to adjust to the lighting, or lack thereof, inside. He had assumed that it was a single club he was going into, what he found were several bars around a huge dance floor. The entire space had been a warehouse that had been totally refitted to suit its new purpose. He scanned the place trying not to look too much like a tourist. He finally selected one of the theme bars to order a drink from. Tony had lived up to his word, this place was packed! It was an eclectic group of the famous, the beautiful, the weird, and the eccentric. It was one of those places where anything goes. Drug use was just barely hidden, and he wished he was in his regular jeans and leather jacket and not in his suit and tie.

He was off-duty tonight, his responsibilities and cares far away. It had been months since he had just gone out to have a good time, ever since Stiles had left with not so much as a word of explanation, just when everything was going so well between the two of them. Fucking Stiles! This was long overdue. He pushed the thought far from his mind. He wasn't going to go there tonight. He loosened his tie, pulled up to the bar and ordered a Long Island Iced Tea. Drink in hand, he wondered towards the crowded dance floor. If he had felt out-of-place at the bar, he felt out-of-date looking out at the dance floor. The floor split into several levels. The music was so loud that it hurt his chest. The spotlights, lasers, and fog machine made the place look like the set of a science fiction movie. Derek half expected little gray aliens to appear from the thick mist. Nothing shocked him any more. Dancers writhed all over each other in various stages of undress. Sweat-covered gym-addicted men danced with clones of themselves, women with women, and once in a while, there was a man dancing with a woman.

The music was strangely familiar, and it took Derek a few moments to realize that it was a remix of an old disco standard. He smiled at the memory.

"One night in a disco on the outskirts of 'Frisco, I was cruising with my favorite gang…

He could only pick a few words out in the driving beat.

…. The place was so boring filled with out-of-towners touring, I knew that it wasn't my thing… I really wasn't caring, but I felt my eyes staring at a guy who stuck out in the crowd… He had the kind of body that would shame Adonis and a face that would make any man cry... "

Derek Hale braced his back against a column and watched the show. A couple of drinks later, the show was even more entertaining. He hadn't ventured out on the dance floor yet. A couple of the bars' more adventuresome patrons had cruised him lewdly and lasciviously; a couple more had come over to stand by his column, only to leave in frustration when he hadn't paid them the slightest attention. Something had already captured his complete attraction.

Derek's eyes were glued to the dance floor, actually, to someone on the dance floor. Every few minutes the spotlights would highlight one of the couples on one of the risers. Derek was transfixed. His heart was leaping in his chest and he kept rubbing his eyes. His eyes couldn't be telling him the truth, but the truth was out there! He tried to pick-up a scent, but it was impossible in the crowded and mist-filled club.

The young couple was undeniably beautiful. Their movements seemed choreographed to the driving music. The woman was svelte, dark and exotic; but it was the young man that had captured Derek's attention. He knew those movements, he knew that body... Intimately. The dancer was dressed in a pair of skintight kid leather pants, jacket, and an expensive looking shirt that looked like a cross between silk and suede. The shirt was a perfect contrast for his beautiful caramel-colored eyes. The haircut was new and obviously expensive. Every few minutes, the dancer would toss the hair from his eyes or push it away with a free hand. If this wasn't Stiles Stilinski, it was his freaking clone. All the feelings that he had been suppressing for the past months, exploded to the surface. It took everything in him not to wolf-out right then and there. Derek Hale didn't care. He had to find out who this young man was. He had a lot of things that had been left unsaid to the fucking bastard that had broken his heart.

The woman had just pulled his leather jacket off and was using it like a rope to pull him closer. She moved like a cloud of smoke, ever shifting and changing—the very essence of unpredictability. Derek Hale was across the floor in just a few steps leaping up on the riser with ease. He grabbed the young man by his shirt and reared his fist back to deliver the blow that had been building in him for months. The grab had caught the young man off-balance and he began to fall backwards as the two locked eyes. Derek wished he had a camera to capture the look on that gorgeous face as he prepared to knock him out.

"What the fuck, Dude?! Oh my god! I...don't bel...," was all the young man said as he fell backwards. The spotlight blinked out of existence, and with it went all of Derek's certainty. No longer able to see clearly, he paused.

Derek wasn't sure what happened next. He was prepared to punch the man in the face; he wanted to punch him, needed to punch him. Instead, he pulled his body close, wrapped his arm tightly around his head and planted a kiss on those beautiful lips that he had missed for so long. The young man struggled at first, then started to respond, just as Hale pulled away.

Derek released the shirt, shocked by what had just happened. He hadn't drunk that much, had he? The younger man slid to the floor. Derek Hale realized that they were now the center of attention in the huge structure. He could also see a couple of security people start to worm their way towards the strange unfolding scene. Derek turned to leave. He could hear the frantic voice of the exotic woman as he walked away.

"Nicky, Nicky, are you all right? Nicky, damn it, talk to me," she pleaded through an accent thick as the San Francisco fog.

Derek Hale had almost made it to the front door, when he felt a hand on his arm. "We have to talk, but not here." Nicky pulled him outside, and tossed his keys to the bouncer. "Bryce, could you get my car please?"

Derek Hale was impressed, he didn't know that Bryce could move that fast. Bryce didn't have far to go, the convertible was right in front of the club. The sports car was a study in black; low and fast, with a black leather interior to match. It reminded him of his old car, except much higher-end. "The alarm system is off and the top is down, just like you like it, Nick," Bryce said as he held the door open for the younger man. Bryce didn't hold Derek's door open, but then again, Derek Hale didn't give him a fifty-dollar tip either. "Thanks Nick, have a great night stud." 'Fifty dollars also bought manners and enthusiasm,' Derek thought snidely. He took a mental picture of Bryce's unhappy expression as the door closed. He had enough alcohol in his system that it all seemed very funny to him. He started to wonder just how he was going to explain his actions.

He wasn't prepared for the acceleration as the car blasted-out of the valet space. At first Derek thought that the man was pissed at him, but that thought left his mind when Nick looked over and smiled and squeezed his leg. "I know I'm speeding, but this area of town really makes me nervous. There's a gun in the glove compartment and another under the seat, Der, if anyone gets too close to the car."

"It really is you, Stiles, isn't it?" Derek asked.

"Yes, of course it's me!" Stiles replied impatiently. "I don't know how you found me, but I'm really glad you have. I've missed you everyday, every minute. I know that you have a million questions, and I'll try to answer them all, I promise." The car turned from the Embarcadero into the Marina District and Stiles visibly relaxed in the up-scale area. As the convertible cut though the Presidio, Derek Hale started to enjoy the ride. The streets were lined with trees and the breeze that was blowing off the ocean and through the eucalyptus trees was intoxicating in its own right. After a few miles, the trees broke and Derek Hale gasped in surprise. The towers of the Golden Gate Bridge soared high above him; they looked close enough to touch. He thought they were going to cross the bridge, but at the last moment the car veered away from the bridge and followed the shoreline in the opposite direction.

An incessant buzzing suddenly broke the stillness in the car. Stiles gave an apologetic look and excused himself as he reached for the cell phone.

"I really should get this, I'm sorry..." Casting a quick look at the caller's ID and the current time shown on the gold Movado on his wrist, he answered. Derek listened in on the one-sided conversation trying to learn as much as he could about Stiles' new life.

"Natasha, my darling! Some bodyguard, it took you almost twenty minutes to call! No, sorry, Hun, I'm actually on the Presidio right now. I'm sorry. I said I'm sorry. Yes, I know. I owe you big time. (Pause) I'm okay. Really! No, actually, he's right here with me. (Pulling the phone away from his ear) Ouch, quit yelling, 'Tash! Hey, I don't know that word, you'll have to teach that one to me later...Hold on, I'll ask him for you..."

Turning to Derek Hale, and loud enough to be heard through the phone, Stiles asked in his most innocent voice, "Excuse me sir, but are you a crazed psycho-pervert?" Derek's mouth fell open for the second time that night. "'Tash, he doesn't quite know how to answer that. No, I don't think I've lost my fucking mind. Hey, that's a good one! (to Derek) She says I should look for it while my head's up my ass! Hopefully, I may have something more fun up there real soon… Am NOT! Takes one to know one, babe! Yeah, yeah, if I wake up dead in the morning, you told me so… Okay. Okay, okay, I love you back. Tomorrow."

Stiles gave a slightly nervous laugh as he caught Derek's eyes and cut the line. Derek realized at the very moment why it had been so hard to tell if this was really Stiles at the club. He had never seen Stiles like this. He was happy and relaxed and the effect made him even more attractive. The lack of stress had erased the years, making him look even younger than he already was.

The car entered a new neighborhood. Huge stone pillars announced the area as SeaCliff. This area made the Marina look like a low-rent neighborhood. Here the houses were huge and surrounded by walls. Some places, you couldn't even see the houses, just an elaborate gate that protected the occupants from the world outside. It was up to one of those gates that Stiles pulled up, after pressing a button on the dashboard, a gate slid quietly and quickly out of the way, allowing the car in.

The gate had offered no clue of what was inside, and what Derek Hale saw left him speechless. The house was low and abstract. Though new, it was obviously built by someone who had been heavily influenced by Frank Lloyd Wright. The primary materials were glass and black marble. Whereas the outside of the house was black and faded into the night, the inside was a blinding white. Whatever button Stiles had pressed, had not only opened the gate, but also turned on lights and opened the garage as well.

"Welcome to my world," Stiles said as they entered the living room. Like most of the houses in the Bay Area, it made the most of the available space. Built on several levels, it surrounded a central atrium. Natural stone, mirrors, glass, and plants mixed perfectly, giving the impression that the house had just evolved from the surrounding area. The few solid walls were a glaring gloss white. The bright illumination hurt his eyes at first. Vintage movie posters broke up the starkness, interjecting a vibrant splash of color. The furniture was leather, black, and looked sinfully comfortable.

Derek Hale was at a loss for words, so Stiles began.

"Things were getting too close to my Dad… I'd already lost my Mother; I couldn't bear to put him in danger. I'd already cost him his job; I didn't want his life to be next. Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do...," he stammered.

Derek Hale cut him off mid-sentence. Explanations could come later; right now he had more important business on his mind. He pushed Stiles back on the couch, covering him with his own body. This time, Stiles allowed himself to participate in the kiss. His arms pulled closer, as Derek carefully opened his shirt. "You can rip it if you want to, Derek, I have four more, the same color," Stiles begged. Derek Hale was tempted, but stopped short of rending the fabric. "Not tonight. Tonight, I'm going to be gentle with you," he whispered in his lover's ear. Pulling back, he gauged the reaction to what he had said in the golden eyes he knew so well. What he saw almost tore his soul. Love. 'So this is what love looks like,' he thought, as he plunged down to devour his long lost lover's lips.

A line of discarded clothing marked a trail, as the two wrestled towards a bedroom. On the landing where they had stopped in a naked tangle, Stiles grabbed Derek's face, locking their eyes together. "Fuck me, here, now! I need it! I need you so bad, Derek. Please don't make me wait any longer."

The simple plea inflamed him. Pushing Stiles down on the plush-carpeted stairs, he kissed a trail down Stiles' back. When he got to the ass that he knew so well, he had to stop and admire it. Though things were familiar, they were suddenly different. Stiles had obviously been spending all his free-time in a gym, and by the looks of it, a tanning salon as well. The slightest of tan lines left from a g-string was a huge turn-on. Like an arrow pointing him in the right direction, the white skin glowed in the dim lighting. He pushed his face between Stiles' cheeks. Stiles moaned hard and long. His hips ground into the stairway, taking on a will and purpose of their own. Derek listened as Stiles' pleas became a mantra. "Please Derek, do it! I need you so bad. Please, I want you to fuck my ass. Fuck me now."

Pulling away, Derek Hale surprised himself by saying 'no.' The word surprised Stiles as well, and he turned his head to see what was wrong. "Have I done something, said something to make you mad, Der? If I did, I'm sorry..." Stiles offered.

Derek gently placed his hand over Stiles mouth, and smiled. "I want you to make love to me first. I want you inside me right now. ...and stop calling me 'Der, damn it.'"

Stiles was shocked speechless. He was almost always first on the bottom. It was a routine that they had fallen into, and like most routines, had never changed. Derek continued, "Nothing's wrong, just right now, I need this. I need to feel like I'm still a part of you. Do this for me, please."

Stiles didn't need to be begged. Standing slowly up, he pulled the older man into the master bedroom. Taking over where Derek had left off, his tongue mapped every inch of Hale's hot body. Then, grabbing some lube from a drawer in the bedside nightstand, he prepared himself to enter his lover. Derek tried to concentrate on the sound of the splashing water in the fountain that covered the corner of the room. The distraction only worked until he felt the head of Stiles' cock enter him. It had been a long time. Absence might make the heart grow fonder, but it doesn't make things easier on your ass. He pushed his face into the pillow and took it like a man. Stiles could sense his discomfort, and stopped. "Just tell me when you're ready babe," he purred in Derek's ear. "Don't worry. I'm not going to be able to last very long. It's been way too long for me and this feels way, way too good."

After a while Derek began to rock his hips, and Stiles quickly caught the cadence. It was a perfect match, as they both worked to bring the other pleasure. Derek reveled in the feeling as Stiles pistoned in and out of his body. He needed to recapture the feeling of being a part of Stiles' life and this physical connection was helping. 'Stiles was true to his word,' Derek thought as he felt the younger man getting close. He could feel the sweat from Stiles face drip onto his back as Stiles shot deep inside him, and something else, something he had never felt before. Tears. He could feel Stiles crying as he came deep inside him, as he said, "I love you so fucking much" in his ear.

Derek realized at that moment just what a hell hole Stiles' life must have become when he left Beacon Hills. He had been forced to leave everything and flee with just his wits and the clothes on his back. He had to have been terrified and alone. Stiles always put up such a brave front, but he needed his friends close by. This had to have been so hard on him. He always underestimated the young man's strength. His heart went out to him. He didn't care anymore about what Stiles had to do to survive. He was just glad that he was here and alright. The thought that the Alpha Pack had threatened to kill this young man sent a shiver down his spine. It caused his protective instincts to kick in.

Stiles held him, almost too tightly, until Derek Hale felt the wet cock slide from inside him. Turning, he gently kissed Stiles along one of the trails left by the fresh tears. Embarrassed, Stiles tried to turn his face away, only to have it gently turned back and kissed again. The two met eyes as silent communications passed between them. Pushing Derek onto his back, Stiles reached for the nightstand again. Straddling the body below him, Stiles lowered himself slowing onto Derek's large throbbing cock. It had been awhile, and Stiles had to take it slow. He didn't want to take it slow though, because it felt too good. He was physically connected again to the man he loved, and that was worth all the pain and discomfort.

Starting slowly, but building in speed and intensity, Stiles arched his slender body taking the stiff rod deep inside himself again and again. Derek leaned against the pillows and watched as Stiles rode him. Damn, he was beautiful. The muscles played hide-and-seek just under his skin as the two made love. Something new caught Derek attention. Gazing past Stiles, he caught their reflection in the floor to ceiling bedroom windows. The dim lighting in the room was just enough to turn the glass to mirror their reflections. It was the first time he had seen himself make love. He could see the two of them having sex and it was like an out-of-body experience. The sight took his breath away. He greedily monopolized the view for himself for a while until he let Stiles in on it. "Want to see something beautiful?" Derek asked as he turned Stiles' face towards the window. Stiles paused, the sweat running down his face, as he looked in the direction that Derek was indicating. "It's like starring in our own porn movie..." Derek went on.

"And what would you know about that now, Derek? I thought I was the one into porn." Stiles playfully joked back as he resumed his motions. Once in a while, he would steal a glance at the window and adjust his movements slightly. Just like when he was on the dance floor, he would brush his hair from his eyes or toss his head slightly. Derek Hale loved the boyish quality the new haircut gave him.

Though it killed him to do so, Derek Hale stopped Stiles. He had a sudden inspiration. If Alice could go through the looking glass, then so could they. He pulled Stiles to the window and slid the door open. Bracing Stiles against the glass and metal railing, he entered him fiercely from behind. Stiles had just a fleeting thought of the neighbors and how much, if anything, they were able to see. He was hoping that the neighbors were long asleep. Those were his last conscious thoughts as he gave himself up to the sensations pounding through his body. Their rhythm matched the soothing sounds of the crashing surf.

Pulling out, Derek turned Stiles around. He missed being able to look into his eyes. Suddenly lifting Stiles onto the railing, he was surprised when the look in those eyes was terror for just a second. Stiles had dug his nails into his back and his legs had instinctively wrapped themselves tightly around his back.

"Stiles, don't worry, I won't let you go, trust me," Derek Hale coaxed. "I won't ever let you go again…" he trailed off.

Risking a look behind him, Stiles smiled a nervous smile, and said, "You're the one who taught me to trust no one. But, I do trust you. You might even say that my life, my fate, is in your hands, Sourwolf."

As Derek entered him again in the new position, Stiles reluctantly released his arms, bending low and far across the railing. His ankles though kept a death grip behind Derek's back.

Stiles' words seemed very melodramatic and his current actions seemed reckless and risky. "Stiles get back up here, you're going to get wet," Derek Hale said a little annoyed. This had been his idea, so he couldn't get too perturbed. He was met with the sound of laughter from below. "Everything will be clear in the morning; maybe you'll know just how much I actually love you - and trust you." Derek didn't know why Stiles had picked this time to start talking in riddles, but he was at the point of not caring anymore. Wrapping his arms around Stiles' back, Derek gave a huge pull. Gently lowering himself to his knees, Stiles' body followed him over to the safe side of the rail. The momentum of the move impaled him on Derek's cock, driving it to depths never felt before. Stiles cried out. Pinning him between the glass rail and himself, Derek lifted his partner's legs onto his shoulders. He lost himself in the hot, tight, smooth wetness that was Stiles. Pushing their lips together, he savagely kissed the younger man. He wasn't living up to his promise of being gentle, but then again, Stiles didn't seem to mind. Stiles moaned in pain and pleasure, as he let Derek take pleasure in his body. Derek could feel Stiles' cock, trapped between their two bodies, start to throb. He knew Stiles was getting close, and reveled at his recoup time. A few strokes later, he felt the hot sticky fluid shoot between them, and followed suit. With an animal-like moan/howl his emptied himself deep into the younger man. The orgasm was incredible. He felt like he was coming for hours. It always amazed him at how much better his orgasms were with Stiles, than by himself, or with anyone else for that matter. The two fell backwards into a sitting position on the balcony.

"Come to bed," Stiles said as he pulled Derek up. Falling on the bed, the two wrapped themselves in each other until sleep approached.

Derek Hale wasn't sure how much time he had left alone with Stiles, but assumed that it wasn't very much. Was there someone else that lived here? The house was much too large for any one person. Stiles was a catch, obviously someone was also aware of and acted upon that fact. He didn't want to leave, but felt that, under the present conditions, it would be more prudent. "I'll call a cab Stiles. Don't get up."

Stiles grabbed his arm, and held him. Through the curtain of sleep that was closing on him rapidly, Stiles said, "No, Derek, stay. I can't lose you again." Derek stroked his lover's hair until he was sure that Stiles was asleep. The sex had been incredible, but it always had been with Stiles. Derek wasn't sure why he couldn't sleep. Stiles wasn't having any problems. Finally he did sleep, but it was restless and filled with dreams he couldn't remember.

Finally, he got up and wondered restlessly throughout the house. He opened drawers and closets, hoping to find out more about his lover. In the closet, he smelled the sweaters and the leather jacket; the scent was overpowering and intoxicating. It was all Stiles.

The first rays of sunrise were starting to light up the living room, as Derek Hale crossed to the other balcony. Trying to be quiet, he slowly slid the floor-to-ceiling glass door to one side. The door slid quietly though, with no indication that it had to weigh hundreds of pounds. Derek Hale stepped out onto the balcony and braced himself against the railing. The view was incredible.

A famous writer once wrote that the fog in San Francisco creeps in on cat's feet. What he forgot to add though, was though it may creep in on cat's feet, it then pounces and coughs up a huge hairy hairball of thick soup over the entire area. That part must not have sounded so poetic. The solid curtain of fog had just started to advance on the city by the bay. If the fog hadn't been there, Derek Hale would have been able to look out to sea—all the way to the Farallon Islands off the coast. The cliff-side road they had taken the night before was in view as were the tops of the twin art-deco towers of the Golden Gate Bridge. The glass door had soundproofed the house, but now Derek Hale could hear the pounding of the surf far below. He could smell the eucalyptus trees that surrounded the house. He looked down and fought the urge to jump back into the house. The balcony, with no obvious means of support, shot out over nothing. Though the ocean had sounded close, it was actually several hundred feet straight down. The effect was totally unnerving. He realized why Stiles had looked so nervous and scared, and just how much trust he had put into Derek the night before. 'As soon as Stiles wakes up,' he thought, 'I'm going to kick his ass for taking such crazy chances.'

'Stiles, you've done well, no wonder you left me,' was the last thought that crossed his mind as he started to cry. He wasn't sure how much later, but he was relieved to feel Stiles wrap his arms around him. "Derek, you're freezing. Come back to bed, babe."

"I can't, Stiles, I'm sorry," Derek said weakly.

"What's wrong?" Stiles asked tipping Derek's face up to meet his.

"Who do you belong to, Stiles? Look at this place! Fuck! Who's my competition, and how can I ever even hope to compete?" Stiles started to laugh, until he saw tears had started down Derek's face again. He stopped short and held Derek's gaze for a long time before speaking. "He's very handsome and intelligent. Making love to him is the greatest joy you could imagine. He has strong ideals and convictions. He makes me feel safe and loved, though he can be moody, stubborn and single-minded at times..." Stiles began. The words cut Hale like a knife, each one plunging slightly deeper and twisting slightly.

"Aren't you forgetting 'rich'?" Derek Hale asked sarcastically. "Who's picking up the tab here?"

Now Stiles did laugh, his voice cutting into the early morning air. "Everything here has been bought and paid for, Derek..."

"Including you?" Derek Hale accused with more venom then he should have used.

"BY me. Derek, the man I was describing was you," Stiles said patiently. "This is all mine, well actually, it belongs to my alter ego, Nick. It's also yours, if you want it. If you want to stay with me."

It was now Stiles' turn to wish that he could preserve this Kodak moment as he finally had the last word with Derek Hale. Derek just looked at his ex-lover, his mouth doing a great impression of a fish out of water.

"When I ran, I had certain things that I could sell and use," Stiles finally explained. "Information is one of the most important commodities out there. Someone who can manipulate a computer system or program is always in high demand, especially in this zip code. Bidders kill for it. I'd learned a lot from you and the pack. Of course, I had a good knowledge of the law and marksmanship from my Dad, but I'd also learned some hunter tricks from Allison and Chris. Thanks to the Bestiary, my research, and the experiences our pack had, I probably had more knowledge than anyone else on this side of the country. When I turned 18, my inheritance from my Mom also kicked in. You're not the only one with a trust fund Der. I also happened to know a couple of numbers to secret bank accounts formally belonging to the Alpha Pack. They were left in the rubble back in Beacon Hills. They obviously weren't going to need them any longer. Funny thing about numbered accounts, if you know the access codes you can transfer funds with no way to trace where they ever went...

"Turns out that all these skills are in very high demand. I'd help someone with a problem, and they'd recommend to others. After a while, I was getting work everywhere. I was even out of country for a while," Stiles continued, "but came back here. Ever since the 60's, everyone always runs to San Francisco to hide."

"I met Natasha here. She and her Russian grandmother have been like a new family to me. 'Tash is a dancer with the San Francisco Ballet and her Grandmother makes the best pirogues that you have ever tasted! No one here knows about my past life, except for the stuff I've told Natasha about you when she would worry about me always being alone.

"Derek, if I had stayed with you—and I DID want to stay with you, please never think otherwise," Stiles emphasized, "my life expectancy would have been shorter than a gallon of milk in a car on a hot summer day. Not a day has gone by that I haven't wanted to pick up the phone and call you, tell you where I am. But, I knew that if I did, I'd put my Dad and you in danger and blow all this. We spent so much time saving each other, it was becoming almost common-place. I didn't like the risks you'd take for me, and the chances you would take. I know you can heal, but I hated seeing you hurt. I no longer need to be saved. I may not be a werewolf, but I can take pretty good care of myself now. It's a good feeling. I went directly from being a child to being in a pack, I never got a chance to find out who I was ~ who I could be. I also found out something else. That I, that we, are meant to be together. You are the only one for me. I haven't been with anyone else since you. I still love you."

"Didn't you say something about coming back to bed...," Derek asked.

Derek awoke a couple of hours later, to the strange feeling that he was being watched.

Natasha gave him her best "cat ate the canary" smile. "What have you done to my Nicky, he looks so, ah, what is the word to use, whipped?"

From the far side of the bed came a muffled giggle and drowsy, "'Tash, leave him alone. This is the one. The one I told you about..."

The look in Natasha eyes changed as if someone had flicked a switch. "So you're the one that Nicky always talks about, this, what is it you call grumpy-wild-dog-who-eats-chickens-in-the-night?"

"Tasha, behave!" came loudly from across the bed.

The accent disappeared completely. "Damn it Nicolae, you never let me have any fun," she complained sulkily. "Hello Derek, I feel like I already know you. Don't get up, or I will get to know you MUCH better than I already do!" She giggled at her own joke. "Nicky, at least I don't chase your boyfriends out of the house with a loaded gun..."

Now Stiles really laughed. "And, when have you ever had a chance to chase a boyfriend out of here? You really should explain that story to him before you ruin my already bad rep."

Natasha turned to Derek, "Nicky has saved me from many a bad date. If I'm having a horrible time, I leave my door unlocked. If I'm having a good time the door is locked. Nicky has the 'jealous husband' routine down perfectly, you should see him in action!"

Stiles was howling by now. "Remember the last one! He made it all the way to his car before he realized he was naked! Man, that was a good one!"

"So you better feel pretty special, you wouldn't believe how many people have tried to break Saint Nicholas here out of his vow of celibacy," Natasha quipped. "I have to say, I feel a slight pang of jealousy. No, wait, yup, that's hunger, my mistake! Come on, I'll take you two lovebirds to breakfast."

~To Be Continued~


	2. Charter Two ~ Breakfast in Atlantis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Heart's in San Francisco ~ Part II by AgentAlexKrycek  
> This is my entry into the "Stiles is a BAMF" category. After graduation and that whole Alpha Pack episode, Stiles disappears leaving Beacon Hills forever (?). He does it to protect himself and his Dad, but leaves a broken-hearted Alpha & wolf pack behind. Established relationship. Legal aged characters.  
> Timeframe: After graduation and Stiles' 18th Birthday  
> Feedback: Feedback is eagerly sought, but please be gentle and constructive. Thanks & Enjoy!  
> Thank you guys so much for the amazing reception to this story. I am overwhelmed! Here's Part 2 ~ Enjoy & let me know what you think!

Part II Breakfast in Atlantis

"I was thinking Sausalito for breakfast, but there's also Tiburon for brunch if you'd prefer," Natasha explained.

"It's all new to me. What's your recommendation?" Derek Hale asked.

"Well, I know this fabulous place for Eggs Benedict, but Tiburon has these fish tacos that are to die for!" Natasha threw out. She caught the look of brief panic cross Derek's face, and smiled. "Sausalito it is then! I'll just let the two of you get ready. I'm going to hike down to the beach. 'Toodles!"

That was one thing which had been bothering Derek. In his explorations the night before, he hadn't been able to find the bathroom. "Okay, I give up! Where the hell is the bathroom?"

Stiles pointed in the direction of the Atrium. Derek was still confused. "What am I supposed to do, find a plant to hide behind? You know Stiles, even werewolves appreciate indoor plumbing."

Stiles laughed. "Just make a turn at the fountain, smartass." Now, Derek was intrigued. Turning the corner at the natural stone fountain, he was impressed by what he found. The atrium connected to the bathroom. A huge mirrored wall separated it, creating privacy. The other side of the fountain poured down into a huge pond-shaped hot tub. The natural stone walls and lush plants gave the room the appearance of a tropical grotto. Putting the crowning touch on the bathroom suite was a huge Tiki God which obviously hadn't come cheap. Derek had seen smaller versions in museums, but this one was easily three feet taller than himself and at least ten-times as old. He felt Stiles come up behind him and hug him close. "What do you think?" Stiles asked, kissing the back of his neck.

"I don't know, seems a little understated, don't you think?" Derek joked. Stiles touched a switch bringing the lights down in the room. After starting the water, he poured scented oil onto small recessed pools built into the lava walls of the fountain. He lit the ponds with a lighter hidden on one of the ledges. Fire leapt up the side of the fountain, giving it the feeling of an erupting volcano. Turning one more dial, he pulled Derek down into the stone pond. Derek Hale couldn't believe the sensations as water hit him from three different directions, as well as from above. The side nozzles where turned down to a fine mist, and it wasn't too long till the bathroom had a feeling of a foggy San Francisco morning.

Derek laughed, turning slowly around in a circle to get the full effect. It was easily the best time he had ever had in a shower. "This is fantastic," he told Stiles a little too loudly. The words echoed in the small room. "Oh, It gets better," Stiles said with a smirk on his face. "What's next, hula dancers?" Hale asked. He watched as Stiles crossed the distance towards him. God, he was so beautiful. The water slicked the now long hair to his head and his body shined in the flickering firelight. Derek took the younger man in his arms and kissed him. The kiss was long and powerful, leaving them both out-of-breath. Stiles was the first to pull away. He still had that smirk on his face. Gently he pushed Derek against the stone wall. Keeping their eyes locked, he dropped to his knees. Taking Derek's cock into his mouth, he worked it to full attention. Derek couldn't decide what was better, the warm feeling spreading through his entire body or being able to watch the look in Stiles' eyes as he worked to bring him off. Subjugation was such a turn-on!

Derek wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer. Stretching out his arms to grip the wall, he tilted back his head and closed his eyes. His hips began to thrust back and forth, and Stiles had to restrain his partner slightly to keep himself from choking. The hand gripping Derek's balls warned him of the impending orgasm. He knew he had done well when Hale came. Hale was usually silent when he came. This time though, the groan reverberated through the artificial jungle. Pulling Stiles up by his shoulders, his kissed him long and deep. He could taste himself in Stiles' mouth. The sweet, salty taste just whet his appetite for more of the same. Sliding slowly down Stiles' body, he took his hard cock into his mouth, making love to it with his tongue. He had just started when Stiles pulled him back up. Kissing him again, he explained, "We don't have time, Natasha will be back soon." Derek was disappointed, but realized Stiles was probably right.

Stiles handed him a towel and turned the regular and heat lights up to full. He blew out the small fires, and Derek was sorry to see it all go. As he toweled off, he remarked, "I never had you figured for a Tiki God kind of guy."

"He brings good luck and wards away evil spirits," Stiles explained. "I should probably have ten more. I could use all the protection I can get."

"You have me," Derek Hale said. It sounded totally lame as the words left his mouth, but it got him a hug and kiss from Stiles, so he was glad he had said it.

"Help yourself to anything in the closet," Stiles offered. But, Derek still waited to see how Stiles was going to dress before making his choices. "Wear a swimsuit under everything, In case we stop at the beach. Also, you may want to get a sweater or jacket for later. It gets pretty cold here when the fog comes back in." Derek realized why everyone in San Francisco had multiple personalities; it was because of the weather.

Speaking of multiple personalities, Natasha chose that very moment to come back. Entering from the balcony, Derek Hale realized that somewhere there had to be a stairway or trail leading down to the beach below.

"Damn Nicky! You should have seen the guy down there this morning! Family-sized kielbasa! Holy cow! I'm not a size queen, but I just love to be impressed." When she saw that Derek was looking at her like she had just said the whole thing in Russian, she explained. "Didn't Nicky tell you? This house is two hundred feet above a notorious gay nude beach. Well not all of it, just the north and south ends of Baker Beach; the middle is for families and tourists."

Things just kept getting stranger and stranger, Derek Hale mused to himself. When all three were ready, they walked out to the convertible. Derek Hale offered the front seat to Natasha, but she refused, preferring to be chauffeured. As she buckled herself in securely, she tied a colorful and bright bandanna around her hair and put her oversized designer sunglasses on. Stiles caught all this in the mirror and sniped, "This isn't the old country, 'Tash, you're much too young and pretty for babushkas! You're starting to act just like your Grandmother."

"Oh no, Nicolae," she said with a shake of her brightly covered head. "I know how you drive. I will not be seen in Sausalito with convertible hair!" Grabbing Derek Hale around the neck from the back seat, she stage-whispered into his ear, "The first time me and Nicky went clubbing, I made the mistake of getting into the car with wet mousse in my hair. By the time we got to the bar, I looked like the bride of Frankenstein! I looked like a weather vane all night. It was all simply awful!"

The car pulled out of SeaCliff and onto Lincoln Avenue through the Presidio. This time the car did make the turn onto the Golden Gate Bridge heading north into Marin County. Derek had been looking forward to this moment. This was one of the things on his to-do list while he was in the city. Nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. He could see the bridge getting closer, but he hadn't ever realized the scale of it. Pictures didn't do it justice. This was something that had to be seen in person to appreciate. Even before they were completely on the bridge, it was mammoth! Once the car got onto the bridge, the feeling of leaving solid land was slightly disconcerting. The views from the bridge were incredible. The San Francisco skyline stretched out behind them. As the first of the two towers approached, Derek tilted his head all the way back. It went up forever, challenging the clouds and defying the sky with its bright orange paint.

Natasha leaned forward and said, "It never gets routine. Every time you see it, it takes your breath away! I think that's because it's more than just a bridge, it's a huge monument to what we can do if we put our minds to it. It's like imagination taking form. This is how the ancients must have felt when they would see one of the original wonders of the world for the first time."

Every time she opened her mouth, Derek liked her more and more. He could see how she had become Stiles' best friend and confidant in so short a time. Stiles obviously had a type, a thing for gorgeous female geniuses!

Sausalito was just across the bay from San Francisco, but it was a world away in style. Where San Francisco was skyscrapers and busy roadways, Sausalito had retained its small fishing village charm. Derek Hale doubted any fishermen still lived in the expensive bay-front area, but it was nice to step back in time. The waiter recognized Nicky and Natasha and gave them a window seat with a commanding view of the bridge and the city. Before the waiter could leave, Natasha placed an order for three Mimosas. Derek felt totally indulgent and a little guilty about drinking the champagne and orange juice drink this early in the morning, but it seemed to fit in this place.

"So what do you prefer to be called Natasha, 'Tasha, or 'Tash?" He asked during a lull in the conversation.

"Oh my, Nicky! Where are our manners! We haven't been properly introduced!" Natasha exclaimed in mock horror. 'Nick' did the honors.

"Derek Hale, the soon-to-be-famous-totally-infamous Natasha Rambova. Natasha, the love of my life, Derek Hale..."

Natasha grabbed Derek's proffered hand and kissed it. "Charmed darling! And in answer to your question, my close friends call me 'Tasha."

"Just don't call her Kirstin!" Stiles laughed loudly into his drink. Natasha blushed at the mention of her real name. Giving Derek an embarrassed smile, she admitted her secret, "No one will hire a ballet dancer named Kirstin."

"I know that name, isn't it the name of a notoriously beautiful, bi-sexual silent movie star, the second wife of Rudolph Valentino, an heiress who ended up minor royalty somewhere?" Derek Hale asked.

Natasha was surprised. "Not too many people have seen through my nom-de-plume and my disguise. I'm very impressed," she complimented. "As for you, you little traitor, behave or I will tell him where we found your name, Nicholas." Now, it was Stiles' turn to blush deep red.

"Please do tell, 'Tasha," Derek begged.

"Meet Nick Icon, a shortened version of Iacona," she leered evilly as she let the cat out of the bag.

Derek Hale wasn't familiar with this name, and said so. Across the table Stiles was starting to squirm. "You probably know his screen name better ~ Joey Stefano," 'Tasha explained finishing her betrayal.

Derek Hale laughed, loud and long, causing Stiles to turn an even deeper shade of red.

Derek Hale was very familiar with the name. "Arguably the most beautiful porn star ever created. The first gay superstar, and the first superstar 'bottom' in the business," Derek Hale elaborated before turning his gaze on Stiles. He didn't think that Stiles could turn any redder, but he had. "Is there something you'd like to tell me, Nicky?"

"I'm just green with jealousy over you Derek," Natasha suddenly exclaimed. "You know Nicolae's real secrets; I just know the new ones. You also know something that I never will..." A look of profound sadness crossed her eyes for the briefest of seconds. Stiles had caught it though, and quickly reached across the table. "You do know I love you, don't you? You should not have any doubts about that."

"I know, Nicky," she said. "I know. Me too."

Their intimate moment was interrupted by the sounds of an elderly couple from Kansas arguing at the table behind them. "I'm going to give that travel agent a piece of my mind when we get home... Fire & damnation! He booked us to Sodom and Gomorrah! Fire and brimstone and saints preserve us all! San Francisco is going to hell in a hand basket, I tell you." His flustered wife tried to calm him down and minimize the scene he was making.

A secret smile passed through the neighboring table, as they raised their drinks in a toast, "To San Francisco, the new Sodom."

"Actually, and more precisely," Natasha corrected, "It's the new Atlantis." She saw the incredulous eyes turn to her, so she continued making her point. "Atlantis was bordered on all sides by water, plagued by terrible earthquakes and illnesses, and featured a huge pyramid at its center to beacon people from afar. If that doesn't describe San Francisco, then I don't know what does. And, sadly, one day all this will disappear as well, the earthquakes and the seas will reclaim us, and only the beautiful, enduring legend will remain."

Derek was about to argue the point of the pyramid, but as he looked out over the skyline, he saw it. Gleaming blindingly white in the noonday sun, the multifaceted TransAmerica Tower could not be missed. From every angle it beckoned him to the city and all its exotic wonders.

Stiles didn't want the conversation to end on such a low note, so he added, "Don't you watch Star Trek, Natasha? Four hundred years from now, this spot will be the headquarters of the United Federation of Planets. Star Fleet Academy will be right there on the Presidio. The bridge will still be here and property values will probably still be just as outrageous." Stiles shut up quickly, when he found his inner-nerd was showing.

"Excuse me, Der-bear, Nicky...I have to powder my nose," Natasha excused herself.

Derek Hale looked helplessly at Stiles. "She's never going to call me just Derek is she?"

"I really don't think so, babe," Stiles said with a smile.

"I was thinking of introducing Derek to the Castro tonight," Stiles said when Natasha returned. "Wanna come with?"

"Nicky, I can't believe you forgot," Natasha exclaimed pouting. "The benefit's tonight. You've just got to be there! Grandmother will be terribly disappointed if you don't make it, and I need you there for moral support."

"Man, I did forget, I'm sorry," Stiles said slapping his forehead. "Have no fear, we will be there. Derek, you are in for a big treat! You're going to see a real triple-threat in action!"

Natasha blushed at the compliment. Stiles explained to Derek Hale that in the theatre, a triple threat is someone who can dance, sing and act.

"Are you a part of the benefit as well?" Derek asked Stiles, but it was Natasha who answered for him. "No, Nicky's just the philanthropist. He gets invited to all the best parties, that's why I keep him around. Plus, he always seems to need a date. I really must be going - tech rehursals, but you two stay and have fun." Kissing them both on the cheek. "I'll see you tonight. I'll just take the ferry back to the city. Ciao!"

As she walked down to the pier, Natasha let out a laugh. An evil thought had just crossed her mind; she had just traded one ferry/fairy for two. She felt cheated! She would have to tell that one to Nicky later. She was still smiling at her own joke as she climbed aboard on the boat.

Stiles paid the tab and Derek left the tip and the two climbed back into the car. It was suddenly very quiet without Natasha. The car headed back towards the bridge. Instead of taking the turn-off for the bridge or the observation area, Stiles aimed the car into the Marin Headlands. The powerful engine in the sports car got a workout as the car climbed to the top of the hills on the north side of the bridge. Zigzagging back and forth through a series of setbacks and cutaways, the car finally reached its goal. The view was spectacular! From the apex, you could look down on the Golden Gate Bridge and San Francisco. In the opposite direction, the Pacific Ocean glittered blue and gold in the midday sun. Stiles found a place to park the car which wasn't too terribly illegal and popped open the trunk. Grabbing a blanket, the two started hiking farther up the hill. They chose a relatively flat area protected from view by some bushes, and spread out the blanket. Neither one had said much of anything, words just seemed unnecessary for some reason. Derek lay down first, and Stiles used him as a pillow. Derek played with Stiles' hair, tousling it even more than the wind already was. All he could think was that this was life at its most perfect. He wished it would last. But, a little voice mocked him, telling him that nothing perfect ever does.

After a while, Stiles stirred, turning over and looking up into his eyes. Running his hand over Derek's powerful chest, he asked, "Penny for your thoughts?"

"I wasn't thinking," Derek Hale said dreamily. "I was just hoping that this didn't have to end."

"It only gets better," Stiles echoed his words from earlier.

He took Derek's zipper in his teeth and pulled. Hale flipped him over though, stopping him before he could go any further.

"It's my turn, remember?" Hale reminded. "So lay back and enjoy it. Or am I going to have to handcuff you?"

"Hmmm," was the only thing that Stiles said as he felt Derek swallow his cock. He couldn't believe that the normally reserved man was taking such a big chance. This made twice now that Derek had made love to him outdoors, counting the night before. Stiles wondered if he had a secret fetish, something they had never indulged in before. Maybe it was a wolf thing… He locked the information up for later, and enjoyed the sensations as he climaxed. Derek stretched up to plant a kiss on his partner. Touching their tongues together, he teased the younger man.

"Do you like the taste of yourself on me, Nicky?" Derek asked, catching him by surprise. Stiles looked hard into Hale's eyes trying to decide what he was up to. "What do I win if I say yes?" he tentatively answered.

"I hope you know just how great this is for me." Derek played with him. "I'm having an affair with two different men, while not being unfaithful to the one that I love. How much more perfect could that be? Twice the sex, twice the possibilities! It boggles the mind."

"I think the heat has boggled your mind, Sourwolf. Get dressed and we'll go cool down," Stiles chastised. "I think that you're enjoying all this just a little too much."

After packing up the blanket, the car took the less scenic drive down the far side of the hills to Stinson Beach. There on the dark sand, the two frolicked in the waves until the sun started to get low in the sky and the fog started to roll in again.

As they got back into the car, Stiles stopped Derek. He just stared at him for a minute until Derek got really self-conscious and told him to stop. "Penny for your thoughts, Stiles," Derek said sarcastically. He wasn't prepared for the honest answer. "I love you in a Speedo. I was secretly hoping you would wear that today," Stiles admitted.

"I kinda didn't have a choice in the matter," Derek explained. "I would have much rather worn the board shorts, but there's no way I could get into your swimsuit…"

"You underestimate yourself, Derek" Stiles quipped.

"You know what I mean… Them no fit! I'm barely fitting in these!" Derek said miserably.

"Oh, trust me, I've noticed every stitch and seam that you've strained in that suit today…" Stiles leered. "I'm trying to burn it into my memory."

Derek Hale pulled him close and whispered in his ear before kissing him, "You were the reason I was bulging so badly in this suit. I was hoping that you hadn't noticed."

The car headed back over the bridge and into the city.

After cleaning up and donning tuxedoes for the benefit that night, the two admired themselves in the mirror. Derek was making due, with his Armani suit and a new shirt, bow tie and cummerbund. "We look like a couple of deranged penguins, or like we should be on a gay wedding cake," Derek moaned.

"If that's a proposal, you should be on your knees," Stiles joked.

"If I get on my knees, you're not getting out of this house in time for your benefit," Derek threw back.

"We really do make a good couple," Stiles said.

"Are we really going to the Castro after the benefit dressed like this?" Derek questioned, knowing the attention it would attract. He liked to stay under the radar.

"No one's gonna even give it a second thought! What's really bothering you?" Stiles asked, seeing through him.

"I don't know. It just seems so gay," Derek said.

Stiles just laughed at his misery. "Tell me something, Derek Hale, when you were fucking me silly last night and your cock was inside me… that wasn't gay?"

"I've never thought of us like that," Derek said, digging his hole even deeper.

Stiles was really amused by now. "I see, so we're just two straight guys who happen to love each other and fuck each other's brains out whenever we're together…?!"

"Well, yeah," Derek Hale said sticking to his losing position.

"I'm so glad that you straightened that out for me." Stiles was still laughing as they left the house. Derek wondered just where and when he had lost the argument.

The San Francisco Symphony Hall was packed. Nothing turned out the crowds like a good cause. All money raised that night would go to victims of hate crimes, and the community had turned out in droves to lend their full support. Stiles gave the keys to the valet and took the claim check. The stairs leading up to the entrance were lined with people holding a candlelight vigil, and it gave the event a wonderful spiritual touch. Derek followed Stiles' lead. It was slow going. Every few steps, Stiles would get stopped. Derek wondered just how much handshaking, kisses and schmoozing one person could stand. At each stop, Stiles would introduce him. He heard Stiles say his name after saying, "I'd like to introduce someone very special to me," and it made him feel incredible every time. Finally, they reached the safety and blissful isolation of the opera box. Now, there was just one more person to contend with.

Natasha's grandmother was a dynamo! Small and feisty, just like her granddaughter; her presence and personality filled the small room. "Nicky, I was worried you wouldn't get here in time. It's so good to see you my boy. You're still much too skinny though. Well, now that you're in love, maybe you'll gain some weight." She turned her attention to Hale. "You must be Derek. Kirstin told me all about you. I hope you know what a special boy you have here. You treat him good or you will have to deal with me."

"Yes ma'am, I know that ma'am," was all that Derek Hale could say.

"You're too skinny as well! Just muscles and bones." Grandma complained. "Gracious, doesn't anyone eat anymore? In my day, eating was a good thing, something to be enjoyed, not avoided and feared. Youngsters today look like refugees. I walk down the street wanting to give them a pork chop. I want to tie you both up and force you to eat a hot home-cooked meal."

"You don't know just how good that sounds," Derek blurted out. "It has been so long since I've had anything but my own cooking and takeout. I would really love that."

It had been the perfect thing to say, Derek had won her over in a sentence.

The lights dimmed and the orchestra began to tune. The three took their seats.

A single spotlight lit the darkness, as Natasha made her way on stage. Derek was struck by just how much of a chameleon she really was. Her hair was swept up and almost severe. She wore a simple long black dress and a couple of pieces of tasteful jewelry. On someone else the look would be considered plain, but on her the effect was stunning. She looked slightly older and elegant.

Judging by the applause in the hall, Derek realized this was someone pretty well known and loved in the community. Then her personality shined through. With a cute small wave, she welcomed the audience, thanking them for coming out and supporting a cause so close to her heart. She mentioned recent examples of violence in the Bay Area and nationwide. She then caught Derek totally by surprise. "I'd like to dedicate this night to them, and also to those in the audience tonight in love. I have two friends out there tonight celebrating a reunion, finding each other against all odds. This song is for them, and for all those still searching..." Derek felt himself turn crimson as Grandma pulled him and Stiles together from the seat behind theirs.

Natasha's voice started low, but grew in power until it filled the auditorium. Derek Hale was surprised that a voice so sure and strong, so powerful, could come from someone so small. She had an uncanny ability to connect to a audience. He felt as she was singing each word directly to him. He let the music carry him away.

"No matter what they tell us  
No matter what they do  
No matter what they teach us  
What we believe is true

No matter what they call us  
However they attack  
No matter where they take us  
We'll find our own way back

I can't deny what I believe  
I can't be what I'm not  
I know our love's forever  
I know no matter what

If only tears were laughter  
If only night was day  
If only prayers were answered (hear my prayers)  
Then we would hear God say...

No matter what they tell you  
No matter what they do  
No matter what they teach you  
What you believe is true

And I will keep you safe and strong  
And sheltered from the storm  
No matter where it's barren  
A dream is being born

No matter who they follow  
No matter where they lead  
No matter how they judge us  
I'll be everyone you need

No matter if the sun don't shine  
Or if the skies are blue  
No matter what the end is  
My life began with you

I can't deny what I believe  
I can't be what I'm not  
I know this love's forever  
That's all that matters now...  
No matter what"

[~Sorry for the jarring interruption here, Please go to YouTube and pull up "No Matter What" by Boyzone. While you're there, check out the awesomeness that was Stephen Gately ~ a gay icon, idol and torchbearer who was taken from us much to young. Also, please keep in mind, that with the lyrics missing, it severely lessons the emotional effect and pacing that I was going for. Sorry about the interruption, and I now return you to the story already in progress…]

At every level, each of the words struck a chord with Derek Hale and he looked over to Stiles to see if the song had the same effect on him. Obviously it had. Tears clouded Stiles' eyes as he smiled back.

Several acts followed, including comedians, musicians and other singers, but it was very clear who the hometown favorite was for the audience.

Natasha had the honor of opening and closing the event. Her second choice for the night was much more dramatic. She had chosen two selections from "Les Miserables," tying them together into one piece. The piece was perfectly suited to her talents. She walked slowly out on stage cloaked in somber grays and blacks. Looking like someone who had been beaten down by life, a far cry from the beautiful image earlier. At first, Derek Hale didn't even recognize her, until she opened her mouth to sing. As she began to sing and move, Derek Hale couldn't help but be reminded of the landmark work done by Martha Graham.

"I dreamed a dream in time gone by, when hope was high and life worth living,"

{Again, The song is "I Dreamed a Dream." ~ Les Mererables. I highly suggest the Harajuko dance mix version at this point.]

The music suddenly built in volume and tempo, taking on a more upbeat feeling. As the music rose in spirit, Natasha danced faster. Derek remembered the first night he had seen her at the club with Stiles. He had thought she moved like smoke in the wind. The effect was intensified now that she had no restraints on space. She shed the ragged layers of drab clothing as she covered the stage with spins and stances that defied gravity! When the new music began, she stood wearing just a short tight mini-dress made of a holographic materiel and emblazoned with tiny crystals. As the bright colorful spotlights hit her, the dress transformed into a rainbow of colors and sparkles! The effect was blinding and beautiful. It was as if a disco ball had suddenly come to life and descended onto the dance floor to join the dancers. Her voice began again, and Derek Hale wondered how she still had any breath left to sing.

["On My Own" ~ Les Miserables" ~ Again, the Harajuku Dance Mix, if you can find it.]

Derek Hale looked over at Stiles again, he could see that this song had really touched him as he led the standing ovation along with Natasha's Grandmother. Derek had a sneaking suspicion that even though there were thousands of people in the audience that night, the music had been selected with just one person in mind. The applause went on long enough for Stiles to throw down the two-dozen roses (he'd had delivered to the opera box) one at a time. Between claps, Stiles leaned closer to Derek and yelled, "I told you she was something, didn't I?!"

Derek waved back to the kiss that Natasha threw towards their balcony, and resumed his applause. The feeling of family was almost overwhelming, and Derek understood why Stiles had fallen in love with this city and its people. It was intoxicating and overpowering. It had been far too long since he had felt it.

When the auditorium started to empty, Derek and Stiles assisted Grandma backstage to where Natasha was waiting. She hugged her Grandmother tightly and was covered with kisses in the process. The two spoke rapidly in Russian, before letting each other go again. Next, she took Stiles and Derek into an embrace, kissing them both on the cheek. From this distance, Derek could see the toll the seemingly effortless performance had taken.

Her hair was still wet and disheveled, her make-up was running, and she was still slightly out of breath, but she still looked radiant and glowing. Stiles tried one more time to get her to join them in the Castro, but the answer was still no. She still had to clean up, and Grandma had promised a special homemade dinner. She whisked them all out the door. Derek and Stiles made sure that the elderly woman was safely in a cab before reclaiming their car.

~To Be Continued~ Next stop ~ the notorious Castro! I will post the last two chapters in the morning. Sorry it got late on me.

Special Note ~ Dedicated with undying Love to the real Nicholas Iacona Jr. Rest in Peace little bro. Miss you and all the great times, laughs and adventures. You left us much too soon, much too young. Also, must tip the hat to Armistead Maupin who immortalized the 'Atlantis theory' in his incredible "Tales of the City" books. Stay tuned, the next chapter is gonna knock your socks off! More humor and many more feels. Sorry this chapter was a little slow to build. Half-way though. If you haven't guessed yet, this is a love-letter to my San Francisco. Thank you all for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Tuned! ~ Same Wolf Time, Same Wolf Channel! This story gets much better, I promise. Sorry, but there's lots of set-up that has to be made, and lots of catching-up for lost time for our two young lovers. There's lots of action ahead with shootouts and kidnappings, and of course much more sex! There's also a funny trip through the infamous Castro for our favorite pair. In all, there are four chapters. Hope you'll stay along for the ride, it will be worth it! Thanks for reading. This story had thousands of hits at last count on FF! You guys are so AWESOME! I love you guys! Peace & Love.  
> Disclaimer: The characters of the television show "Teen Wolf" are the property of Matt Davis and have been used here for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. This story previously appeared on the Terma Red & The Black site under a different pairing. I loved this story to much and wanted to update it. It's my idea after all! Stop reading here if you don't have a sense of humor, or dislike M4M sex.  
> Timeframe: Well after graduation and Stiles' 18th Birthday  
> Feedback: Feedback is eagerly sought, but please be gentle and constructive. Thanks.Disclaimer: The characters of the television show "Teen Wolf" are the property of Matt Davis and have been used here for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.


	3. Chapter 3 ~ The Colors of the Castro

My Heart's in San Francisco (Teen Wolf Edition) ~ Chapter III ~The Colors of the Castro

by AgentAlexKrycek

As promised, the next stop on Derek's whirlwind tour of San Francisco was the Castro ~ the world famous Gay Mecca. After a short drive up Market, Stiles made a sharp left onto Castro Street.

The first thing Derek was struck by was the size of the area. He had imagined the Castro District as being much bigger after all the stories he had heard throughout his life. But, in truth, you could clearly see from one end to the other. Not even a mile in length, the infamous street was covered with trendy galleries, restaurants, shops, bookstores, bars, nightclubs, and the famous Spanish colonial baroque theater from which the area took its name. Parking as usual was a bitch, and it took several drives up and down the street until a space opened. Of course it was on the other side of the street, so Stiles broke several traffic laws with an illegal u-turn to nab the coveted space.

From the car, it was kinda like being in a wild animal preserve. "You ready for this?" Stiles asked with a wicked smile. Derek was starting to feel more strange hiding in the car, than he thought he would feel out of it. He quickly jumped out of the car and joined Stiles on the sidewalk. He'd been nervous they'd attract undo attention walking around in tuxes, however the attention they were getting was no more than any other couple of gorgeous men would have gotten in the Castro.

Derek was starting to see some of the things that set this area apart from the rest of the city. If you were just passing from one area of town to another, you could easily mistake this for just another one of San Francisco's quaint little neighborhoods. But on closer inspection, you would see that it was a world apart. The first thing that hit him was the proliferation of rainbow flags of all shapes and sizes hanging from lamp posts, balconies and shop fronts. The next thing he noticed was the advertising. Whereas mainstream America is bombarded with targeted ads with sexy female models hocking everything from toothpaste to power tools, here the tables were turned: Male models reached out to a male audience, and female models to a female audience. Same sex couples would pass them hand-in-hand or arm-in-arm. They passed two young men kissing in front of one of the bars, oblivious to all around them. Derek felt a sexual rush race through him as his mind contemplated what the two would be doing later that night. The thought made him smile and move closer to Stiles. Stiles noticed the change in proximity and bumped their shoulders together. It took him awhile to place the feelings, but the area felt like freedom, acceptance and tolerance. Sexuality was out in the open and everywhere he looked. Sexually explicit cards and artwork hung in windows, right along side sex toys and fetish clothing of every size and shape. Derek didn't feel he was prudish, but he could feel his mind doing back flips with every new step.

Finally, grabbing Stiles by the jacket, he pulled him into the next bar he saw. "I think I need a drink!" he exclaimed. Stiles started to laugh before commenting, "You might want to work your way up to this bar a little more slowly, Derek..." He slowly turned Derek around. As his eyes quickly grew accustomed to the darkness, Derek noticed the scantily dressed patrons. Those who were wearing clothing were leaning towards leather. Everywhere he looked, men were in chest harnesses, leather pants, and chaps with a few in nothing more than a jockstrap. It took him several moments to realize he was staring, and even longer to realize that the look was being eagerly returned. He suddenly felt like a duck on the first day of hunting season.

He turned to leave, only to have his way blocked by one of the bar's beefier residents. Derek was big, but this guy was even bigger. Porn star good looks, with blond close-cropped hair on his head and chest, and a huge tribal tat on his arm. His musculature mimicked Derek's, but Derek wasn't intimidated. Those muscles were all for show; ones that were gym, not man-made, that is…

"Where you going in such a rush there, pretty boy? Why don't you two stay awhile and let me buy you a drink? You two are so cute." Porn star said. That's the problem with San Fran; you can't swing a drunk drag queen without hitting a porn star...

Derek knew he didn't like being called 'cute' or 'pretty.' It was all he could do to keep his eyes from shifting to red. The soundtrack from "Deliverance" was starting to roll in an endless loop in his mind. He looked to Stiles for help, only to find that he was having way too much fun with the situation to be of any assistance. He surrendered to the situation and headed towards the bar with their new friend.

After one screwdriver, Derek was feeling better; after two he was starting to actually relax; and after three, he was having fun – lots of fun.

"So what shall we call you?" Derek asked, trying to be polite.

"The man looked Derek straight in the eyes and said, "Master, will do just fine. (To Stiles) Daddy, if you'd prefer…"

"Yeah, thanks there dude… Already have one of those." Stiles quipped.

It took a couple of seconds for the names to sink through the alcohol-induced cloud in Derek's brain, but when they did, he erupted with laughter. Derek quickly tried to make amends by giving the man a compliment. "I like your 'bracelet' thing." He said, grabbing the chrome ring on his leather harness. The man looked at Derek with a lecherous grin, before asking, his voice heavy with lust, "We don't know each other well enough for you to be playing with my cockring, do we!?" Derek pulled his fingers away as if the object had been coated with mountain ash or just produced an electric current.

"Sorry, my bad!" Derek stammered. Behind him, he could hear Stiles giggling hysterically. Derek thought that it was about time to turn the tables. So he asked in his most innocent voice, "So, where could I get me one, ...only bigger?"

He now had the man's undivided attention. He had also stopped Stiles mid-chortle.

"Bigger?! This is as big as they come, hun," the man said entering Derek's game.

"I don't know, that looks kind of like a tight fit," Derek repeated. Now it was the man's turn to laugh.

"Tell you what, man, if you can fill this out, you can have it!" He took note of Derek's hesitation and added, "Don't worry that one's brand new, I just bought it today." He unclipped a leather loop and handed the heavy chrome ring to Derek. Derek turned to look at Stiles and was happy to see that his eyes were popping out of his head.

"Come along slave boy, you can give me a hand… or two," Derek said as he pulled Stiles into the bathroom by his now open tie.

"I don't know how to put this on, do you?" Derek asked once they were alone. Stiles didn't need to be asked twice. Maneuvering Derek into one of the stalls, he unzipped his dress pants and lowered them. Derek was already starting to bulge in his underwear, and Stiles quickly chastised him. "If you get any harder, you're not going to be able to get this on."

"I can't help myself, you feel so good," Derek groaned.

Stiles realized that he wasn't going to be able to stop the inevitable, and just decided to race it. Slipping the ring over Derek's cock he reached behind to pull one heavy ball then the other through the wide, heavy chrome loop. It had happened so fast that Derek had barely noticed any discomfort. It felt really good on him, heavy and manly. He looked proudly down at the new toy. "Now what does it do?"

"Well the story goes that it's supposed to prolong you and make you bigger by restricting the return blood flow, " Stiles explained, running his hand slowly up and down Derek's shaft. "I can feel part of that's true already! I can't wait to find out if the rest is true as well."

Stiles leaned over to give the throbbing head a kiss, and then placed a kiss on Derek's lips. Derek packed himself back into his pants with difficulty.

As they returned to the bar, the man asked "So, are you ready to pay up?" To which Derek replied, "Sorry man, you're looking at the new owner." Derek thrust his groin forward to allow the man to check him. As the handsome stranger's hand slid slowly down the front of his pants, Derek felt his pulse race at the erotic new thrill. Having a stranger touch him so intimately, in such a public place, provided a whole new kind of sexual excitement. He noticed a brief look cross Stiles' face and realized it was jealousy. He gave his boyfriend his most reassuring smile. The fact Stiles was jealous actually made him feel surprisingly good.

"All right buddy, you win!" the man acquiesced. "That's some hot piece of equipment you have there. You two wouldn't be interested in a three-way would you? I'd just love to be a part of this action even for just one night."

Derek moved closer to Stiles, placing his arm around him. "Thanks, but we're exclusive. Really hate to win and run, but we have to go. I'm going to take this new ring on a test drive."

Derek felt Stiles blush in the dark bar as they turned for the door. He kept his arm around the younger man as they walked down the street. Derek didn't know if it was all the alcohol, but he now noticed the men watching them. Especially taking note of him, and his newly enhanced package.

Stiles wasn't oblivious to all the attention either, and finally said, "You're having way too much fun with that damn cockring. I'm not sure the world is ready for this! I feel like Doctor Frankenstein after he realized he had created a monster..."

Derek dropped back behind Stiles, pressing himself against the younger man. He whispered in his ear, "It's alive. It's alive!"

Stiles turned to face Derek, "don't make me get a torch and pitchfork…!" Before he could say, "…and singe your furry ass," Derek pushed him against the first wall they came to and kissed him. There under the hundreds of tiny bubbles produced by a bubble machine, they kissed forever.

After being allowed to breathe again, Stiles asked, "I'm starving! Are you hungry, Derek?"

"Ummm, ravenous," Derek answered biting Stiles' lip lightly.

"I meant for food." Stiles had to fight to make the words understandable with his lip still held prisoner.

Derek reluctantly released the lip, and Stiles grabbed his hand and pulled him across the street. "Trust me?" Stiles asked as they entered the small pizza parlor.

"Unquestionably! When in Rome..." Derek answered.

Stiles came back from the counter with two of the largest pizza slices Derek had ever seen. The topping didn't look familiar though. It was green and slimy, and oil dripped freely from the slices.

"What kind of alien secretion is that?!" Derek asked incredulously. He couldn't believe that Stiles was actually going to ask him to put one in his mouth.

"Come on, it's pesto! It's wonderful! You have to try it," Stiles pleaded.

"After you," Derek said doubtfully.

Stiles folded his piece in half, keeping the oil from running everywhere. He took a huge mouthful. His eyes rolled in happiness.

Derek copied the ritual. He tentatively took a sniff before popping it into his mouth. He hated to admit it, but it smelled really good. As he bit down, the flavor exploded in his mouth. Stiles waited expectantly. "Well…? Well Derek, what do you think?" Derek could only say one word at a time. "More...Now...God, this is great!"

Stiles motioned to the girl at the counter for two more for the road.

The two walked out of the pizza parlor, and right into a sea of black robed figures! They were completely surrounded by a gang ~ a gang of singing nuns ~ and they looked ugly! Well, in all fairness, they were going for that very look. The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, in their shock-drag, encircled the shocked pair. The group was famous in the Bay Area for their charity and good works. Derek, who didn't take well to sudden surprises, felt his control slipping, until Stiles grabbed his hand, anchoring his emotions and humanity.

"Look man, err ma'am, we don't want any trouble…," Derek stated flatly.

"Trouble?! We're not about trouble sweetheart… We're all about love." Explained the head nun before launching back into their song. "I see a little silhouette-o of a man!"

"Scaramouch! Scaramouch! Will you do the fandango?" answered the chorus.

Suddenly Derek heard Stiles' voice joining in, "Thunderbolt & lightning ~ very very frightening ~ Me!" The sister's erupted with glee, hopping and circling them more quickly now.

"Galileo, Galileo!" they sang. For all intents and purposes, sounding like a church choir.

"Galileo," Stiles yelled in response, squeezing Derek's hand hard.

"Galileo?! WTF!" Derek yelped.

"Galileo Figaro ~ Magnificoooo-ooo-o!" the heavenly chorus sang, their voices echoing through the quiet midnight streets.

"I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me…," Stiles added, wanting the impromptu street concert to continue.

Two things happened simultaneously. First Derek had pulled him closer, and said, "Hey, I do!" And upon seeing this, the Mother Superior squealed, did a happy dance, saying, "We have a spontaneous declaration of love, ladies…. You know what that means, my Sisters!"

Cheers and chants of "Street Wedding! Street Wedding!" broke the tranquil night and gathered a modest crowd!

Grabbing Stiles' hand and giving it a stern look over, the Mother Superior turned to Derek. "You claim to love him, yet I don't see a ring on his hand…," Mother Superior said with mock severity.

"Yeah! If you liked it, then you shoulda put a ring on it!" The chorus chanted.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here on this sacred ground in the presence of God, Cher, Madonna and everyone else, to join this man, say your name honey…"

"Ummm, Derek," Derek said.

"Ummm Derek, strange name but with your looks honey you can pull it off. To this yummy young man….," said the nun.

"Nick," Derek proffered quickly… Only to be quickly and quietly corrected. "Stiles, it's Stiles. I think I want my real name used here…" He pulled Derek even closer.

"…Nicky Styles, in holy matrimony. By the power vested in me by the Acme School of Internet Weddings and Explosives, I now pronounce you ~ Husbands! Let no man tear asunder, blah blah blah, yada yada yada. Go ahead honey, you can kiss the stud, I mean groom." The sisters had even provided two huge gaudy plastic rings to make it even more "official." Now they both had rings. As the two kissed, they felt the pelting of rice hitting them.

Stiles tried to complain, only to get a mouthful of rice. Gagging, and spitting the rice out, he blurted out, "Rice?! That's not very PC is it?!"

"Oh, fuck the pigeons, Babydoll," Mother Superior said. "Never could abide those dirty, awful skyrats! Love to watch them go boom boom!"

Before the crowd could dissipate, Stiles reached into his wallet, pulling out a fifty-dollar bill. He passed it to the Mother Superior, thanking him/her profusely. "Oh, that's much too much, sweetie!"

"You do good work! Please use it," Stiles insisted.

When they were gone, and the street was sadly still again, Stiles said absentmindedly, "okay Derek, you can let me go now…"

"Bismillach, No! I will not let you go! Let you go?! Never never never let you gooo–ooo!" Derek softly sang in his ear. It lead to much more kissing.

The two finally got back to the car. Derek was busy trying to open the to-go box from the pizza place. "Hold on, there's more," Stiles said, putting the food out of Derek's reach. Turning down the palm tree-lined Market Street; they arrived quickly at the next destination. The small restaurant sat right on the street and Stiles miraculously found parking right in front. This one actually had chairs and tables. One, which Derek grabbed while Stiles placed an order at the counter before a waiter could even help them. Stiles joined Derek, hauling two large soft drinks.

"What did you order?" Derek quizzed. "It's not green again, is it?"

"Nope, red, to match your eyes. My favorite color..." Stiles answered. Within minutes, a huge dish was in front of them. Derek didn't know what he had expected, but it wasn't French fries. "French fries, I guess they're not just for breakfast anymore... What is it with you and fried potatoes?" Derek joked. He sniffed the food again to see why they were red. He could smell a mix of spices on them. Predominately, the spice was red chili powder, with garlic and paprika as well. He dipped the potato wedge in the chilled Ranch dressing provided, and tentatively took a bite. "Hey, these are really really good!"

"They're Natasha's favorite too," Stiles said. "She got me addicted to them. We can't have them too often, because of the carbs. It's one of the few things I'll cook for myself, for days when this place is closed." Unlike Derek, Stiles shoveled several into his mouth at a time. In no time, the mountain of fries was devoured.

"Umm, Stiles, your eating habits are really…"

"Disgusting? I know, right?! Too many years of bachelor living with just me and my Dad…," Stiles blurted out. A sad look passed over his eyes for just a second.

"…I was going to say strangely erotic, if you had just let me finish. I'm kinda getting turned-on here seeing just how much you can hold in your mouth…"

"Oh, ha ha! Quit hogging the fries and pass the Ranch..."

"If you want something white and creamy, I can oblige you…," Derek said seductively.

"Ewwww! I'm eating here Sourwolf!"

"Green down, Red down, what other colors do you have to show me tonight?" Derek asked as they got back into the car. The car flipped a huge U-turn and headed back up Market. With the top down Derek was able to enjoy the full 360-degree view and crisp night air. The car passed the entrance to the Castro again, and headed into Twin Peaks. Stiles shifted the sports car into low, as it made its way up the winding streets to the top of the highest hill in San Francisco. High-density housing dominated the streets until they approached the crest. Suddenly the hillsides were bare except for some huge television, communication and cell towers. The area was virtually empty and Stiles selected the best area before pulling the car to a stop.

The two got out of the car. Derek could not believe the incredible view. The entire peninsula stretched below them. The lights glittered in every conceivable color. Roadways stretched in all directions, cutting the city into a grid work of moving lights. Boats moved silently out on the bay - the only lights out in the inky darkness of the water. The three major bridges in the area were alive with traffic, even at this late hour. Derek looked to the west to see if he could see Stiles' house from here, to find the fog starting to advance upon the sleeping city. It was an incredible feeling being above the fog as it slowly curled its way through the streets of the sleeping city below. The unstoppable mist slowly coiled and snaked its way through the quiet nighttime streets. Stiles joined Derek as he sat on the railing, dangling his feet over the dangerous drop below. He put his arm around him to keep him warm in the cool night air. Words didn't seem necessary. Stiles felt Derek start to shiver and said, "Let's get back into the car."

"I don't want to leave yet," Derek pleaded.

"No one said we have to leave," Stiles replied.

Stiles closed the convertible top and the windows. Before switching the car's heating system on, he thought of a much better way to heat things up. Derek was still taking in the lights when he felt Stiles' head in his lap. Before he could say a word, he felt the velvet wetness engulf him. As the windows in the car started to fog, the fog outside began to surround the car. Slowly the lights through the windows took on a watercolor-like effect before turning into a multi-color blur. Beads of moisture ran down the windows and down Derek's face as he approached the point of no return.

He warned his partner, "Stiles, I'm getting close..." He hadn't expected Stiles to stop. Stiles pulled away, reaching for the back seat of the car. Pulling down the back seat, he reached into the car's trunk. He pulled out one of the towels and bottles of suntan lotion from earlier that day. Spreading the towel under Derek, he reclined the passenger seat to its limit. Stiles was a blur as he quickly removed his shoes and pants, and opened his shirt. Squirting a liberal amount of the coconut-scented oil on his hand he slowly and rhythmically stroked Derek's cock. Carefully, he straddled him in the tight confines of the small sports car.

His hand stroked the rigid shaft. "It feels totally different with that damn cockring on it," Stiles said as he locked their lips together. Derek felt Stiles' weight press down as their bodies moved into position. He thrust his hips up slightly to make the entry easier. But nothing about this was going to be easy on Stiles. As the head of his cock entered Stiles' body, Derek felt him bite down on his bottom lip and whimper slightly.

"Take it slow, there's no rush," Derek said through his imprisoned lip.

"Fuck! It's too big now, I can't do this," Stiles panted. But he could feel his body relaxing to the invasion, starting to welcome it. It seemed like it took hours for him to slide down the length of the shaft. But by the time he had reached bottom, he was ready. Their interlocked bodies began to move in unison.

Derek wasn't sure if it was the unexpected blowjob, or the tight confines of the car and Stiles, but he felt his orgasm quickly approaching. "I'm not going to be able to last very long, babe, I'm sorry," Derek apologized.

Above him, Stiles was slowly jacking his own cock. His shirt would fall open and closed with each movement. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, and his breathing was restricted to heavy panting. His eyes were closed, and Derek wondered what secret thoughts were running through his brain. Stiles nodded to Derek, that he had heard his message, and sped up his own stroking to try to match their orgasms.

Derek felt his own eyes start to close as his orgasm began. He wanted to keep them open to watch Stiles, as he had never seen anything so beautiful, but it was impossible. He felt wave after wave pass through his body, as he ejaculated deeply into Stiles' body. Above him, Stiles' timing had been perfect. Derek could feel the hot sprays as they hit his chest. Stiles' body dropped down onto Derek's, his breathing still labored. Derek grabbed his wet face in his hand and kissed him. The salt of the sweat on them tasted good as they kissed. He wasn't sure which of them said, 'I love you' first. It really didn't matter.

The policemen in the patrol car which had pulled over to check on an abandoned automobile, had second thoughts upon hearing the ear-shattering howl that emanated from its interior. It headed quickly back down the mountain.

Sadly and slowly, the two got dressed. With one last kiss, and one last look at the incredible sight below, the car headed for home.

As they entered the bedroom, Stiles' attention was drawn to the blinking indicator light on the answering machine. He tapped it in passing. But as soon as the frantic message started, he froze mid-stride!

Derek couldn't clearly understand the panicked flood of Russian and English as it poured from the machine. But he could tell the message was bad by the way all the color had drained from Stiles' face. He slowly crossed the room and took the younger man in his arms.

"Babe, what is it?" Derek asked. The answer made his blood run cold.

"It's Natasha's grandmother. Natasha never made it home tonight. Derek, she's been kidnapped!" Stiles translated.

Derek pulled Stiles even closer as the shaking began. He could hear Stiles saying something softly in Latin. Though he couldn't translate it, he knew by the cadence of the words that he was praying. The sobs quickly followed.

~To Be Continued~ Oh No! Cliffhanger! Only one chapter left… Such sadness.

Notes ~ Did you guys catch the little inspirations that were the basis for "Car Problems?!" This story came first, by years, and actually pre-dates Teen Wolf. I told you, I've always loved this story! Thank you all (thousands and thousands on FF at last count!) for reading! As always, Please let me know what you think. I appreciate each and every one of you so very much! Peace & Love!  
Disclaimer: The characters of the television show "Teen Wolf" are the property of Jeff Davis and have been used here for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. This story previously appeared on the Terma Red & The Black site under a different pairing. I loved this story too much to let it die, and also wanted to update it. It's my idea after all! Stop reading here & now if you don't have a sense of humor, or dislike man-on-man sex.  
Timeframe: Well after graduation and Stiles' 18th Birthday  
Feedback: Feedback is eagerly sought, but please be gentle, civil, and constructive. Thanks!


	4. My Heart's in San Francisco ~ Chapter IV ~ Heart of Stone/'Hale Aloha 'Oe'

My Heart's in San Francisco ~ Chapter IV ~ Heart of Stone – 'Hale Aloha 'Oe'

by AgentAlexKrycek

The brief glimpse of emotion did not last long though, as Stiles snapped out of his personal hell and went straight to anger.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! God damn it!" He yelled at nothing in particular.

Derek realized that, as appealing as the offer was, it wasn't Stiles' intention to be taken literally. "Stiles take it easy. We can get though all of this. All we need to figure out is just what the best course of action is..." he said as soothingly as possible.

Stiles whirled on him, and for a split second, Derek didn't recognize him. Then his features relaxed as he vocalized all the thoughts swirling in his mind. "You don't see, do you? Everything—everything that I love, everything that I care about, is always taken away from me! I will never be happy. Not with my Mom & Dad, not with you, not with Natasha. Nobody! Nowhere! It's a fucking curse – that's what it is! I'm fucking cursed! I wish someone would just put me out of my misery because I can't keep living like this! I just can't take it anymore!"

A chill ran down Derek's spine as he heard the familiar words and recognized his same frame of mind for so many years. He thought fast. "Whoa there! I hate to break up this pity party, but here are the facts! We don't know what, if anything, has happened yet. Moreover, it's very presumptuous of you to think that you are the cause of what has happened."

"Trust me, I'm involved," Stiles muttered. "I don't know how I know, but I do." His eyes locked onto Derek's.

The shrill buzzing of the phone made both of them jump. Derek offered to answer the phone, figuring that Stiles had more than his share of bad news for the night. Stiles thanked him for his consideration, but crossed quickly to the handset. Derek studied his lover's face as he spoke on the phone, silently bracing himself for whatever was coming next.

Stiles' face was a mask of stone. He was starting to recede from the carefree person that Derek had come to know over the past few days to a darker version of himself. Derek's heart ripped in two as he watched the transformation taking place. He crossed over to the younger man and wrapped his arms around him in a futile attempt to delay the change from happening. Aside from answering the phone, Stiles hadn't said another word. The call had been brief, less than a minute. The next sound was the receiver being slammed back down.

Derek let him take his time. He knew Stiles would answer every question that was screaming in his mind at that moment. Finally he spoke.

"I fucking hate being right all the time... I knew that this was going to involve me," he said with a tortured half-laugh. Derek turned him so that he could see him face-to-face. He looked into Stiles' red, tear streaked eyes wanting him to continue. The gold eyes that he knew so well were a hundred miles away, though. "What did they say...exactly?" he finally prodded.

"Surrender Stiles! Be at the Banker's Heart tomorrow at noon if you ever want to see her alive again." He repeated the message verbatim. "The voice was electronically manipulated and I couldn't detect any background noises that would be of any help either. Sorry."

Derek felt a twinge of pride run through him as he saw Stiles hadn't forsaken everything that he had learned from him, or his father.

"All right, we now know your cover is broken and Natasha is in trouble," Derek tried to analyze the situation. "What's this reference to the Banker's Heart?"

"It's a God awful modern art statue in the financial district. I'm not sure what the real name is. It's a huge black stone oval. Only natives call it the Banker's Heart. It's located right in the center of 'the canyons'-what the locals call the skyscraper-lined streets downtown. Anyone caught making an exchange in that area would be totally exposed and vulnerable. There are a hundred places to hide a sniper in those buildings," Stiles explained as he crossed the room. Derek then watched as he stepped into the Atrium, and wondered if Stiles was losing it. Stiles walked up to one of the huge mirrored plates of glass, he paused for a second to catch Derek's worried look in the mirror and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Alpha ~ Derek Hale~ Alpha," Stiles said to his own reflection. Derek thought for a second that Stiles was calling him, and then noticed that the huge pane of glass was moving. The unmistakable sounds of an electronic door opening followed. The wall hid a small room into which Stiles walked into. Derek was more than a little curious about what lay hidden behind the cleverly hidden door. The room took full advantage of the stone cliff the house was perched on, burrowing deep within the face. The room was cold and smelled of stale air. The cold flickering neon lighting had been activated with the opening of the door. Derek's mind refused to believe the messages being sent to it by his eyes. Almost lovingly arraigned along the walls of the stone cave, was a huge array of almost every conceivable gun, rifle, machine gun and knife. Boxes of various ammunition and bundles of several different countries' currency were also stored. The freaking Argent's had nothing on this Stiles Stilinski!

"Holy shit, Stiles! Are you planning on starting a war, or overthrowing a small country!? I feel like I accidentally walked into Rambo's Rec Room," Derek exclaimed. "The only thing missing is an anti-tank weapon! Babe, remind me never to piss you off!"

Stiles kicked a wooden olive-drab box on the floor, causing Derek to look down. Stenciled across the wood, in unmistakable military writing was, "Surface to air, Light Anti-tank Missile." "A LAW, I stand corrected, terrified and corrected. Do you have any idea just how many local, state, and federal laws are being broken here?! No pun intended?"

"If they want me to walk into a trap, then at least I'm going to give them a fight that they'll remember," Stiles said as he selected a few of the weapons off the wall.

"First of all, you're not going tomorrow, I'm not going to let you," Derek told him. His words felt weak as he realized he was the only person in the room who wasn't currently armed, well, at least not with human weapons. "I'm going in your place. Once Natasha is released, I will give them the location where you can be found. This way it won't be some shooting gallery trap of their choosing."

"Derek, I really appreciate the thought. But this is something I have to do. Besides, I'm not going to let you put yourself in danger for me. I've lost 'Tasha, I'll be damned if I'm going to lose you too." His hand gently touched Derek's face and for a second the kinder, gentler Stiles was back.

"Follow me here, Stiles," Derek tried again. "Someone obviously knows who you really are. This whole scenario has 'trap' written all over it. They can't capture or kill you, if you're not there."

Derek watched as options were being weighed in Stiles' mind. "Only on one condition, I will be with you somewhere in the area, in case anything goes wrong. Non-negotiable."

Derek nodded.

"I like your password to get in here. I think I could possibly remember that," Derek joked. He watched as Stiles turned a pale pink. "It's more than a password. It's VR voice recognition also..." He crossed over to a small console set into the wall and pressed a sequence of buttons. "Learn new user..." He then motioned at Derek to say something.

Derek had been caught by surprise. He didn't know what to say, so he blurted the first thing that came to mind. "I love you, Stiles." Stiles smiled as the console chimed, "your new password has been accepted and remembered. Storage complete, thank you."

That night the two made love with an intensity they had never reached before. It was like both of them knew it might be their last chance to be together. After the exhausting exchange, sleep came easily and quickly for Derek.

Derek awoke abruptly. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He noticed that Stiles was wide-awake next to him, fully dressed, loading and inspecting a high-powered rifle.

"Why did you let me sleep? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to crash on you." Derek said groggily.

"I didn't have the heart to wake you; we still have a couple of hours until noon. I didn't know when the next chance you might have would come..." Stiles explained as he smoothed Derek's hair down. "Besides, you looked so cute."

Derek was glad to see that some of Stiles' sense of humor remained, but was worried about him nonetheless. "You haven't slept at all, have you?"

"Can't, never have been able to before a big day," Stiles explained. "You should see me before Christmas."

"I'd like to. I mean, I really would like to be able to spend Christmas and other things with you. Are we ever going to get that chance?" Derek asked, looking deep into Stiles' far-away golden eyes.

"Someday, I hope," Stiles answered. "Go get ready; we have some scouting to do."

Derek got ready in record time. He donned the freshly laundered suit that he'd worn since the night he had found Stiles. It felt weird on him for some reason. He checked his reflection in the mirror. He looked the same as always. But, it still felt like the skin he was in was not his own. He wondered in passing if San Francisco could have had that quick an effect on him. Derek would not take any of the weapons in the home's arsenal, opting only for the regulation Glock Stiles' father has given him. He explained that if things didn't go well, the fact that he had an unregistered and untraceable weapon in his possession would only complicate matters. It didn't complicate matters for Stiles, though, who deftly picked out another weapon to make up for Derek's lack of one.

The drive downtown was a quiet one. Both of the men were deep in their own thoughts. When they arrived at the destination, the car pulled to a stop. Derek took a look around, to get his bearings. This didn't look like the financial district - it looked like Chinatown.

Stiles pointed down California Street. "The Banker's Heart is just down the street. It's a short walk or you can take one of the trolleys. I'll be nearby. Be careful."

"Where will you be?" Derek asked. "How will I find you after?"

"It's better that you don't know," Stiles answered. "And, I'll find you, hopefully both of you, when this is all over."

"Take care of yourself, Stiles, I mean that. Promise me you won't take any unnecessary chances," Derek pleaded, hating the worried sound of his voice.

"It's what I do best. You should know that by now." With a smile and a rev of the engine, the car was gone into the thick lunchtime traffic.

Derek started to walk down the steep incline of California Street. It wasn't too long until he heard the clanging of the trolley's bell and felt the vibrations through the soles of his shoes. He waited until the trolley car was even with him and jumped aboard. He could tell the operator was not happy with his unorthodox and dangerous move, until he flashed his fake-ish police badge. The operator went back to minding his route.

Derek kept his eyes open. He wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for, but assumed he would know it when he saw it. Then he spotted it. On a small plaza, at the top of a rise of steps, a huge black stone oval that sucked the life and color out of everything around it—the Banker's Heart. He jumped from the trolley not realizing how much speed it had picked up on its noisy journey down California Street. He had to take a few running steps to lose the momentum he had jumped with. The first order of business was to check the time. Next he scouted the entire plaza looking for anything out of the ordinary. There were a lot of suit and ties, and a few power dresses, eating sandwiches under the shade of some sickly looking trees. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He looked around briefly at the towers that surrounded him. He wondered which one Stiles was on top of, or inside of. Judging from the location of the plaza and the time of day, he would be readily able to pick it out given enough time, but didn't want to attract any attention in that direction. He made himself disappear into the sea of suits. At a few minutes until noon, he moved close to the sculpture. At noon, a parade of unmistakable government sedans pulled up to the small plaza. Out of which, came an unmistakable pack of government agents. They quickly set up a perimeter, and advanced menacingly up to Derek. The rest of the crowd was more easily intimidated and cleared the plaza in moments.

The lead agent had pulled his gun and was holding it pointing skyward as he drew closer. "Stiles Stilinski? I have a Federal warrant for your arrest. Please come peacefully and you won't be harmed..."

Derek stood up, and was very intimidated to see that the man still towered above him. For the briefest of seconds, Derek saw the pure red light of a laser-sight mark the taller man's heart. Then it was gone just like a firefly on a dark summer night. If Stiles was sending him a message, it was getting through loud and clear.

"Buzz! Wrong answer, but thanks for playing," he replied in his most smart-ass way possible. "Care to tell me who the hell you are and why you're interfering with a active kidnapping investigation, Slick?" Derek knew Stiles was rubbing-off on him.

Derek's attitude had hit the right cord and taken the man completely by surprise. He composed himself enough to ask, "We're working on a tip from a reliable source that a wanted computer-hacker would be here. Can I please see some identification, sir?"

"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours," Derek answered with a huge smile at his own double entendre. The other agent was not so amused. Derek realized that might, in some cases, does make right, and realized he had pushed his luck about as far as he was going to be able to. He reached slowly into his breast pocket and pulled out his identification. He was betting that inter-agency courtesy would win out, and they would not run his badge number. Two of the agents inspected it in passing. "So what brings Beacon's Hills PD all the way out to the coast, officer?"

"Can't tell you, sorry. Any questions or inquiries can be directed through my sheriff's office," Derek stalled, knowing that no matter what agency, paper work sucked and everyone hated it. "What I can tell you is that I'm a friend of the family, and only here to make sure that nothing unwanted might happen. You might say, that I'm a concerned citizen." It worked. The gang of agents reconned the plaza just as Derek had done earlier. It gave Derek a chance to check their cars for any sign of Natasha. His heart fell when he didn't find any. Derek knew he owed Stiles' father a huge steak dinner when he got back home. He would also have the Sheriff make a few discreet calls to clear Stiles' name. The agents got back into their somber government vehicles, leaving one agent behind to wait for Stiles or watch Derek. He wasn't quite sure which. Derek walked up to the young man wearing designer sunglasses. He reminded Derek of Stiles in his younger days. "Hey, kid, can you tell me how to get to Chinatown?"

The boy pointed up the street with a patient, patronizing smile. Derek waited for the next trolley, and left the area. He let the car take him on its entire circle. Jumping a cab, he asked the driver to take him to Pier 42. It would be one of the best places to get lost in a crowd. He wasn't lost long, though, as he felt Stiles' welcome presence sneak up behind him.

"Good job losing your tail," Stiles complimented. Derek was shocked. He wasn't even aware that he had been tailed. He wasn't going to let Stiles know that though.

"What ya mean, I don't have a tail! Is that another one of your really bad dog jokes?" Then, serious again. "Stiles, I'm sorry. She wasn't there. It was a trap. They wanted you, they had a Federal warrant," Derek explained.

"It was probably fake, even they wouldn't know it until long after they had turned me over," Stiles explained. "We're still no better off than we were last night."

"Wrong! We know that the kidnappers are local, they wanted to set you up to be captured, and they are playing us against the FBI," Derek thought out loud. "What do they have to gain?"

That was an easy one for Stiles to answer. "The reward. It has to be for a reward or bounty on me," Stiles stated. "You wouldn't believe how much my ass is worth to other men out there, Derek."

The joke fell flat with Derek. He hated seeing Stiles take such a serious matter so flippantly.

His next thought was interrupted by the shrill beep of Stiles' cell phone. An uneasy look passed between them before Stiles put the phone on intercom so that they both could hear.

"Stiles, Stiles, Stiles…" the mechanical voice mocked. "You've been a very bad boy, Stiles. You've cost us lots of money."

"Look you fucking bastard, if you think I'm dumb enough to walk into an obvious trap, you've got a lot to learn about me. I've used guys tougher than you for target practice. You're fucking with the wrong man, got it!" Stiles yelled into the phone as he pulled the car over to the curb and killed the engine. "Your bargaining days are over, starting now. These are the new rules! This is what I want, my demands... You WILL deliver Natasha to me unharmed in one hour at the gun emplacement above and behind Fort Point at the Golden Gate Bridge. You will not be late! Whatever money you have been promised, I will match and double in cash. Deal's off if just one hair on her head is out of place. And mark my words, if anything has happened to her, I will hunt you down and kill you in the most excruciating way I can think of. We can all walk away from this alive, the choice is yours. Do you want to live or die? Now let me talk to Natasha..."

The conversation had made Derek's blood run cold. He knew what Stiles was capable of, and prayed silently that whoever was on the opposite end of the phone had the sense to realize it as well. He also silently mourned the passing of the Stiles he had come to know over the past couple of days.

There was a long silence on the phone, with what sounded like the start of several thoughts that were never fully vocalized. Finally, after a heavy sigh, the sounds of a scuffle could be heard. A new voice came over the phone line, and Derek's heart took a huge jump for the first time that day.

"Leave me alone, you fucking Neanderthal! If I wasn't tied up, I'd kick your balls through the top of your head... " Natasha hurled at her abductor.

"Speak," the voice ordered.

"Nicky? Is that you?" she asked, hope and stress filling her voice.

"It's me," Stiles answered. "We'll have you free real soon. Don't worry. Are you... okay?"

"I'm all right, Nicky, tell my Grandmother that I love her and not to worry... Fuck off! I'm not through yet, you fucking jerk! Fuck off!"

The remainder of the conversation disintegrated into an endless stream of cursing, some in English and most in Russian. The sound of a struggle could clearly be heard before the phone line suddenly died.

Derek looked over at Stiles, and was surprised to see a huge smile lighting up his face. "Natasha, I love you! You beautiful, brilliant bitch! Yes!" Stiles yelled, hitting the steering wheel of the car. His comment surprised Derek.

"You have to let me in on this, my Russian is a little rusty," Derek queried. "It sounded like she got some good insults in there, what did she call him, anyway?"

"Nothing too out of the ordinary," Stiles said, the smile still lighting his face. "She just called him a nightclub car boy."

It took Derek just a few seconds to realize the importance of the message that Natasha had secretly sent them. His mind went immediately back to the night they had all met at the South of Market nightclub and the valet he had encountered there. It took him a few more moments to remember the name that went with the face in his mind. "Bryce!" Derek said. "I knew there was something about that weasel."

Stiles had been proudly watching as the pieces came together in Derek's head. He now smiled approvingly. "We always did make a good team." he said, giving Derek's leg a quick squeeze. He started the car and headed towards the Presidio.

Derek was surprised when Stiles pulled up to the agreed upon location. "Aren't you forgetting something? Don't you need to find an ATM or go back to the house first?" he asked.

"I keep enough in the car to buy off a small time punk like Bryce," Stiles explained. "Besides, I need to be ready, if I needed to disappear or leave town really fast."

He grabbed the cover on the cars console and pulled hard. The sound of Velcro and glue ripping filled the car. In the hidden space, was a small fortune in cut diamonds.

"Hidden contraband, weapons, remind me not to take your car on any trips into Mexico or Canada," Derek joked.

Stiles pocketed two of the small bags, before replacing the console cover. "Small, light, easy to carry, conceal, and sell, and almost totally untraceable," Stiles said proudly. "Plus, they don't make the machines go off at international airports. They're more than a girl's best friend."

"I haven't been shopping for diamonds lately. How much are they worth?" Derek asked.

"Black-market, $10,000, retail about $25,000 per bag, give or take a few thousand dollars," Stiles explained. The stash remaining in the console could still buy a car dealership. "Grab your gun; I want to be real familiar with this area before they get here."

The two had barely circled the area, when a new vehicle joined them. It took an eternity before the driver's side door opened and two people got out. A gun was held on them while Natasha struggled stubbornly.

"Back up!" Bryce ordered. "Get into the trees. The less witnesses the better."

Without taking their eyes off one another, the foursome walked into the tree line until the steep terrain wouldn't let then go any further.

Stiles broke the silence. Keeping his voice calm and gentle, he slightly lowered his gun. "Look, there's no need for anyone to get hurt here today, I have what you want right here..."

He had said the absolute wrong thing, and his calming words set Bryce off.

"What I want?! What I want! What the hell would you know about what I want? That's a fucking joke, Nick - Genim- Mieczyslaw—Or whatever the hell your real name is! If we all had what we wanted, then you would be with me, not him!" He spat out. "Why him? What the hell does he have that I don't? I tried so hard to get your attention all this time, Nick, Stiles, whatever the hell your real name is! Couldn't you see that all I ever wanted was you..." The final words came out in a choked whisper. Desperation and pain filled his eyes, with a hint of insanity. Bryce was a man barely holding on.

Stiles lowered his guard and his weapon and took a step closer to Natasha. The look that passed between the two spoke volumes and Stiles could see her relax slightly. The strain of this ordeal though, was taking a heavy toll on her.

"I'm sorry that I've hurt you, Bryce," Stiles purred. Derek did a double take. That was probably the first time he had heard those words come from Stiles' mouth. The stakes must really be high, he thought to himself. "Derek and I have a history - that's all," he continued, while easing forward another fraction of an inch. Placing himself in a precarious position between a loaded gun and the sheer cliff face. Unlike the parking area, there were no guardrails here, just a steep two-hundred foot drop to Fort Point and the breakers below. "Here take these. They're diamonds, the best quality available - anywhere. You can make a brand new start anywhere you want. We can all forget all about this. Nobody needs to get hurt here. Just take these and go, we won't stop you." Stiles let the diamonds slide around in his palm. The tiny gems sparkled like fire in the afternoon sun.

Stiles wasn't prepared for the vicious blow as Bryce's gun hit his hand from below. The stones flew into his face, and he felt himself falling backwards. Then, there was nothing but air. He abandoned his gun and the diamonds in an all out attempt to grab anything that would keep him from going over the cliff.

"Hurt! You don't know anything about hurt! But you will by the time that I'm through with you," the kidnapper screamed. He renewed his grip on Natasha and started to back towards the parking lot. He locked eyes with Derek and the smile on his face was pure evil. "Looks like you have a choice to make lover boy... Who are you going to choose, him or her? Who's going to live, and who's gonna die? Can't have both. Tick-tock, time's running out…"

Derek's mind screamed. He could feel his body wanting to shift. His gun was locked on Bryce. But, he couldn't take the shot without risking Natasha. Stiles was at his feet, just barely holding on. Derek could hear him whisper, "Don't worry about me, get Natasha." But there was something in his tone that Derek knew was off. He could hear the fear in Stiles' voice. He could smell it, and almost taste it, as it poured from the panicked younger man. As he dropped to grab Stiles with no time to spare, he heard a final taunt, and mocking laugh, as the gunman closed the car door. "I guess you really do love him... How sweet!" Natasha's screams were drowned out by the sound of the car's engine roaring to life.

Laying flat on the dusty ground, Derek grasped Stiles' arm and pulled hard. Unfortunately, his human strength was not going to be enough. He felt his muscles grow, giving him the needed strength to pull Stiles back up. The two locked eyes and Derek expected an outburst when Stiles reached the safety of the ledge again. When he was standing on firm ground again, Stiles just dusted himself off, picked up his gun and the diamonds that could still be easily found. "Thanks!" was the only thing he said as he raced for the car. Derek had seen his eyes though. The coldness had returned. He hadn't seen them this hard since their reunion, but now the coldness was back. Derek hated to see it back. A part of his heart broke, seeing that look come back into his lover's eyes.

The car roared into life and took off like a wolf in pursuit through the California hills.

Traffic laws were ignored, twisted, and butchered, as the black sports car strained to close the gap. The sun was starting to set, and the fog was starting to creep into the city for the night.

The lead car made a last minute desperate turn onto Divisidero, and floored the gas up the series of steep hills. It was a bad move and allowed Stiles' more powerful sports car to soon overtake them.

"Can you get a shot?" Stiles asked. "Go for the tires."

Derek tried, but the uneven terrain was playing havoc with his aim. Half his shots were hitting the pavement, and he hated to think where the other half were going. Time and roadway were quickly running out. The car crested the final hill on Divisidero, where it drops suddenly down to Market and entered the Castro. Derek's heart stopped. He had forgotten that it was Halloween night. The barricades were already up and the throng of thousands had already started to gather in the streets. "Oh my fucking God. He's not going to stop! He's going to plow right into the crowd," Derek yelled.

"Grab the wheel!" Stiles yelled. Derek jumped across the car, and tried to keep the vehicle in some kind of control. Stiles jumped up on the driver's seat and took aim. Derek's mind was doing somersaults, "Jesus, Stiles, are you trying to get killed? Get your ass down here!" He desperately tried to get his foot across to the brake pedal. The car had to still be doing over 50 mph on the narrow, crowded city streets. He used one hand to steer the car and the other to try to keep a hold of Stiles. At the last second, Bryce hit his brakes throwing his car into a power spin. The crowd split in several directions. The car now raced back up the hill straight for Stiles and Derek. Shots thundered out from both vehicles, and the already frightened crowd panicked. Revelers ducked for any cover they could find. Derek was too busy trying to bring Stiles' car to a safe stop, that he never saw the windshield explode on the oncoming car. But, he heard the screech of the tires and the sickening crash as it turned sharply and smashed into a bank building set on the corner. Stiles was already out of the car and running. There was only one person left alive in the mangled wreckage. He pulled the limp body from the car, and carried it back to his. "It's going to be okay, Natasha. It's going to be okay. It's all over. Just hold on." He turned to Derek. "Derek, two blocks back up this road, there's a hospital. Go, Go!

"When we get to the hospital, you're in charge of getting 'Tash admitted," Stiles ordered.

"Where are you going to be?" Derek asked.

"I going to let Natasha's Grandmother know where she is and that she's going to be okay," Stiles explained. "I'll meet you at the house later. Besides, you know there's always too many questions at hospitals. Your badge should be able to do away with most of them."

Conclusion ~ 

It had taken forever at the hospital, but by the time Derek had left, Natasha was in stable and satisfactory condition. The hospital wanted to hold her for a few days for observation, nonetheless. Derek was still present when Natasha's Grandmother arrived. She showered him with kisses, and was surprised not to see Stiles in attendance. Derek lied, saying that Stiles was answering some of the questions the police had. Inside, his heart sank. There would be lots of questions now, and Stiles wasn't the answering kind. He wondered what he would find when he got back to the house. Would Stiles be there, or would he already have pulled one of his disappearing acts? The strong sense of dread stayed with him, until the taxi pulled up to the gate. Without any hesitation, the gate swung open and Stiles bounded down the stairs. He had a million questions, and Derek tried to answer them all as thoroughly as possible.

When Stiles was done, though, Derek had a question of his own. "What's going to happen now, Stiles? There's a dead body down on Market Street. The police are probably already looking for the shooter..."

Stiles paused for a moment before answering the question. "I didn't shoot him, Derek. I don't kill people. Bryce caused everything that happened to himself."

"Stiles, I heard all the shots, I saw his body...What are you taking about?" Derek argued, wondering if Stiles was in some sort of shock, or denial.

"Three shots—the tire, the windshield, and the mechanism in the steering wheel for the driver's airbag. I guess you could technically say that I killed him, but I never 'shot' him. Besides, the special rounds that I used fragmented on impact. It would be almost impossible to find a shard big enough to be of any use."

Derek's mind was trying to fathom the skill it would take to make the three miracle shots Stiles had described. It was impossible, wasn't it? And, furthermore, to make them from an unsupported standing position from a rapidly moving car. It boggled his mind. He started to argue the point, but one look into Stiles' eyes told him that he would lose that argument. He let Stiles push him gently into the house and close the door.

Their lovemaking had a frantic feel to it tonight. Afterwards they collapsed in a tangled heap on the bed, falling asleep in each other's arms. It was a tortured sleep though, and Derek soon re-awoke. He found himself being studied by Stiles, who tousled his hair and gave him a huge smile. "Aloha, my love."

Derek was still groggy, and the strange words coming from Stiles were not helping. "Aloha? What do you mean? What are you taking about Stiles?"

"It's a great word—Aloha. Did you know that it means 'I love you,' 'hello' and 'goodbye'? It's also a way of life and state of mind. All words should be so cool, don't you think?"

Derek let the soothing words and calming touch relax him back to sleep. In the morning he awoke again, this time to find Stiles nowhere to be found. He had expected it this time. But, expecting it did not make it any easier. But this time, he had Natasha and her Grandmother to share his pain. He felt sorry for 'Tasha, it would be really hard on her. But they would get through it together.

He was almost ecstatic when he found the short note attached to the Tiki God as he was getting dressed. The gaudy plastic rings they had been 'married' with in the Castro, held the short note down.

"I'm not big on good-byes as you should know by now. Find me, Derek. You did it once; I know that you can do it again. I have faith in you. Just remember the VERY LAST thing I told you last night... Tell Natasha and her Grandmother take care of our house until we can all be together again. All my Love, Always, Stiles."

Damn it, cryptic as usual! Derek tried to make sense of it. Remember the last thing I said to you last night. Then it all made sense. He laughed hard and pulled the door shut behind him. He had never been to Hawaii. If he played his cards right, maybe he could be out there by Christmas. Stiles had promises to keep, after all. He remembered his mother telling him once, long ago, how Hale meant "home" in Hawaiian ~ with a slightly different pronunciation that is. As he waited for the cab to the hotel and his waiting car, he hummed an old song he hadn't thought of in years. "Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say on a bright Hawaiian Christmas Day, That's the island greeting that we send your way from the land where palm trees sway..."

Derek smiled and his heart soared.

-The End-

Notes ~ Well, that's it. Thank you guys for coming along on this ride with me. I've been playing with the idea of continuing this story, or making a separate one of Stiles and Derek in Hawaii… What do you guys think? Please Review and let me know what you thought. There's a lot of me in this story, not to mention dear friends no longer with us. Just letting you know, that I may take any harsh criticism personally. ;-) Going back to the humor for the next one. Just wait, it's going to be EPIC! Love you all! J Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: The characters of the television show "Teen Wolf" are the property of Jeff Davis and have been used here for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. This story previously appeared on the Terma Red & The Black site under a different pairing. I loved this story too much to let it die, and also wanted to update it. It's my idea, after all! Stop reading here & now if you don't have a sense of humor, or dislike man-on-man sex.  
Timeframe: Well after graduation and Stiles' 18th Birthday  
Feedback: Feedback is eagerly sought, but please be gentle, civil, and constructive. Thanks!


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